Along Came a French Girl
by the Raven of Roses
Summary: nny’s done it again. kills a little kid’s mom, then realizes hes stuck with an 8yr old kid that cant speak english. at all. very weird, but whatever. read and enjoy, kiddies its done! yay me! i havent exploded yet! i had such fun...
1. The traumatization of a French child

12-23-04

Disclaimer thingy of DOOM: I do not own anyone in this fic except the peoples who are me own creation thingies, like that sweet little French girl and her mom. And Raven. And Squee's classmates-most of them, anyway. And maybe some other people as I go along. I dunno. Everybody else is owned by the Almighty Thinnest, Jhonen Vasquez. ANYBODY WANNA CHALLENGE THAT? HUH? HUH? Okay, well, then. Erm, the inspiration for this fic came from a beautifully written story titled "Broken Memories," and I can't remember who it's by right now, so please don't yell at me, superior fic-writer-person, cuz I really liked your story. Please read that fic, it's great! Uh, anyway, on with the fun!

Nny woke up. He had actually slept. That was not good. It had been _ages_ since he had done it last, but he could never fend it off for good. The familiar sense of uncertainty upon waking was enough to drive him, terrified, into a corner. He wasn't sure of much now, but sleep stripped him of those last shreds of certainty.

Needless to say, he was not happy.

And someone was banging on his door like their life was on the line. Well, it _was,_ but they didn't know that. Not _yet_, anyway. Nny shakily stood, stretching to work out his cramped muscles-it had been forever since he's stayed still for more than an hour-and crept up to the door. Whatever it was hadn't heard him and was still hammering incessantly on the heavy wood.

"Who are you and what do you want?" he growled, wrenching open the door so fast it nearly tore off of its hinges.

A small woman stood in the doorway, her fist raised to knock again. The fearful look in her eyes didn't match the situation, so Nny could only guess at what was scaring her. Something shivered behind her, holding tight to the woman's skirt with a tiny gloved hand. Nny stared distastefully at them and started to close the door.

"No! Wait!" The woman suddenly gripped the edge of the door with both hands. She had a surprisingly strong grip for someone so small and frail-looking.

"What is it? I'm busy." Nny let go of the door and leaned against the frame, tapping a foot on the floor in irritation.

"Y-you live here?"

"Yes..." He started to go on, but the woman gave a small scream and suddenly threw herself at him, nearly crushing the man in a tight hug.

"Oh, I knew I'd find you!" she squealed in a thick European accent that Nny couldn't quite place. "All I had to do was keep looking, I knew it! But now I've found you!"

"What the _hell_ is your problem?" Nny hissed, shoving her off of him. "Get away from me, you crazy-"

"But don't you remember me? We were...you were..." Her eyes filled with tears. "You don't remember!"

"I'm going to shut the door now. You will leave quietly and we will all get back to our lives. Is that clear?" Nny started to close the door again, but the crazy woman ran inside before he could get it shut all the way.

"Please listen to me!" she wailed, grasping Nny's hand. "I don't know what else to do! You have to help me!"

"What the-"

"Please listen!"

"Who are you and what are you babbling about? I would like you to leave now."

"But I _can't _leave!"

"I could arrange for that to be true, but I'm not in the mood. Please leave now, before I get angry."

"Please listen! You have to help me raise our daughter! I don't have anywhere else to go!"

"Daughter?" Nny laughed harshly. "Go to hell."

And with that, he pulled out a knife and made her a foot shorter. The body slowly crumpled to the ground, and Nny kicked it and the head out of his way.

It was then that he noticed a small girl cowering in the corner, eyes huge and mouth open in a silent scream. Not good.

"Go away. I didn't want you to see that." Nny turned away, slightly ashamed of himself. A little girl should not have to witness a murder. It was very sloppy of him.

The kid just stood there, silent. Nny sighed and turned back to yell at her, but stopped when he saw her flinch back. That wasn't right. He did not like scaring children. She shouldn't be there, but still.

"Please leave? Look, juvenile, I really do not wish to harm you, but I would like you to go away."

"Mon Dieu."

"What did you say?" It was Nny's turn to gape.

"Pardon, monsieur. Je ne comprehends pas."

"Oh, for God's sake..." Nny glared heavenward. "WHY?"

"Eh, Squee?" Nny tapped on his neighbor's window, one arm clinging to the frame to keep from falling.

Squee stumbled to the window, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "What? Oh, N-Nny... What do y-you want?"

"Er, well, you see...there's a little French girl in my house, and I can't understand her. You take French at the hi skool, right?"

"Yes..."

"Great! Then let's go and get this sorted out, shall we?"

Nny grasped Squee's hand and dragged him out the window and onto the grass outside the house. They ran to Nny's place, Squee struggling to get away all the while.

"Here she is. I can't get her to speak English. Talk to her."

Squee stared at the tiny girl that huddled in the corner, whimpering. Her huge violet eyes were glowing with tears, and she shivered violently when Nny came close to her. She looked oddly like Nny, but a tiny, seven-year-old, female Nny.

"Eh...C'est d'accord, petite. C'est d'accord. Comment t'appelles-tu?"

The girl started at the sound of the boy speaking her language. She stared at him, eyes widening even more.

"J-je m'appelle Antoinette...et toi?"

"Je m'appelle Squee. Ca va?"

"J'ai peur!" Antoinette started crying and curled up into a tighter ball.

"Er, her name's Antoinette and she'd very scared. What did you _do?"_ Squee carefully stepped forward until he was right in front of the girl, then knelt and tried to console her.

Nny pointed to the body.

"Oh. Wait, she's talking again..."

"Il tue Maman!"

"Uh, yeah. Stating the obvious..." He started speaking very quietly and slowly in French, saying as many soothing things as he could think of. Four years of French, and he still wasn't prepared to comfort an orphan. Pathetic.

"Nny, you are really something. Look what you did to this kid!" Squee glared at Nny before turning back to Antoinette. "I should really get her somewhere where she doesn't have to look at dead bodies..."

"There's a lot of empty rooms down that hall. Find one and make the kid stop sniveling already."

Squee shot Nny another dark look before explaining to Antoinette that they were going to go off so she could calm down and tell him what happened. Then he took her by the hand and led her off down the hall.

Nny watched them go, an annoyed look on his face. He cursed under his breath, glanced at the body, and decided that he should really bury the woman somewhere. It wouldn't be very nice to have her decomposing in his living room. An hour later, he returned, dusting off his grimy clothes and sat down on the couch.

Squee, meanwhile, had gotten Antoinette to stop screaming and sobbing. The little girl now sat on the floor, shivering, but silent. Squee was now seated across from her, back against the door so that Nny couldn't walk in and terrify the kid again. He smiled warmly and started to talk.

"D'accord, Antoinette. Ou j'habites-tu?"

Antoinette shook her head mutely.

_Oh, God, she doesn't know where she lives..._

"As-tu famille?"

"N-non...monsieur...Maman est mort." She started crying again.

"Non, Antoinette, c'est d'accord, c'est d'accord..." Squee kept murmuring things to her, hoping it would work a second time. "Tout est bien..."

_"Non! Non! C'est mal! Tres mal!"_ She was screaming now.

Squee let her cries run their course. God, this was getting difficult. A sixteen-year-old's patience only lasted so long. He dug around in his pockets for something, _anything_ to give to the girl to calm her down. He ended up with a cinnamon candy cane, a piece of candy left over from the holiday party they'd had at the hi skool. He unwrapped it and handed it to the girl.

She stopped crying immediately. A cautious sniff, and her eyes narrowed. Apparently she'd never seen a cinnamon candy before. She gave it a test lick, then crammed the whole thing into her mouth. Her eyes watered, but she crunched away, savoring the unfamiliar taste. She smiled at Squee and giggled upon swallowing the last morsel.

"Bien, non?"

"Tres bien!"

Squee breathed a sigh of relief. He told her to hold on a moment while he left to do something. She nodded, but looked vaguely fearful. Squee handed her his stuffed bear, Shmee, which had somehow survived the trip to Nny's and the subsequent ordeal with Antoinette. She smiled again and held onto the bear for dear life.

"Nny?" called Squee, reentering the living room. "Nny, she's stopped screaming. I think she won't start getting hysterical again if you come in with me. Nny?"

Nny was sitting on the couch, absent-mindedly sketching. Squee glanced at the paper and saw the face of a little girl looking up at him from the sketchbook's pale surface. Her eyes were wide with fear, and she was looking at something just beyond the paper. Nny didn't seem to notice his presence.

"Nny? Are you listening to me?"

Nny jumped, and suddenly there was a blade against Squee's throat. "Oh, hi, Squee. Sorry about that. Don't sneak up on me, though, okay? I'm a little jumpy. What is the situation with Miss Antoinette?"

"Like I just said, she's calmed down. I think if I'm there, she won't start screaming if you go and see her. Bring some cinnamon candies with you. She seems to like them."

"Really? And why exactly would I want to go and talk to her? I can't speak French _or_ understand it."

"Just say 'bonjour' and smile a lot. Or maybe don't smile." Squee remembered his past experiences with Nny's grin. "But you owe it to her to try to talk to her. I mean, the girl's been traumatized.

Nny sighed and nodded. He vanished for a few minutes, returning with a box of cinnamon candy canes. There wasn't much blood on him, either, so it could only be surmised that he didn't kill the cashier this time. Squee and Nny slowly made their way to the room where Antoinette still sat, arms wrapped around a badly-stitched teddy bear.

"Antoinette, je te presente Nny."

Antoinette gave a squeak and huddled farther into the corner. Squee sighed and cautiously approached the girl, and she started crying.

"Oh, great. Now what?" Nny leaned against the doorframe, still holding the candy canes in one bony hand.

"Um...just give her some candy or something. Maybe she'll calm down."

Nny sighed and pulled out a candy cane. He unwrapped it and slowly came toward Antoinette. She looked up, wide-eyed, but didn't start screaming again. Nny held out the candy, which Antoinette greedily accepted. She glared at him and stuffed the treat in her mouth.

"Aimes-tu?" queried Squee, smiling at the girl.

"Oui, monsieur." Antoinette nodded and smiled.

"C'est Squee, petite."

"Ouais, Squee."

"Nny, she likes it. I think she's okay now."

"Well, yeah. She hasn't started screaming yet."

"Give her another one."

Nny handed the girl another candy cane, which was quickly shoved into the pocket of the black jacket she wore over her red and black shirt and pants. Antoinette smiled and started squealing happily in French.

"Okay, I guess she forgives you now."

"Wonderful." So much sarcasm.

Antoinette stared at Nny, eyes big. "Wunnerful," she chirped, her tongue sticking out between the top and bottom rows of her teeth.

"Okay, then." Squee smiled. "Keep talking to her. Maybe she'll pick up some words. Little kids learn languages a lot faster than adults."

"Okay!" giggled Antoinette.

"Hey, I wonder if she can understand us...Probably not, though." Squee stood up and turned to leave. "If she says 'j'ai faim,' she's hungry. 'J'ai soif' means she's thirsty, and I think you'll be able to get the rest of her demands. I have to go now; I've got skool tomorrow. Think you two will be alright?"

"Maybe."

Squee laughed and told Antoinette that he had to leave, but Nny would take care of her. He also told her to come to him if anything ever happened. She smiled and nodded, but looked worried when he took back the teddy bear and left the room.

"Well, then. What's your name, again? Antoinette? God, that's a long name. How about something shorter, eh?" Nny looked thoughtfully at the girl for a moment before smiling. "How about Annette?"

Antoinette giggled and repeated the name. "Annette, Annette, Annette. J'aime Annette!"

"Okay, then. You are Annette." He pointed at her. "_Annette._ Got it?"

Surprisingly, she nodded. "J'ai faim!"

_What was that again? Hungry? Okay, she's hungry._

"Come on, let's go get something to eat."

He roughly grabbed the girl's hand and led her out of the room and into the kitchen. There was a lot of blood covering random things, but no bodies, so it didn't seem to bother Annette much.

"How about skettios? Sorry, but there's not much to eat around here." Nny held up a container of the spaghetti-esque sustenance and smiled. "Want some skettios?"

Annette didn't respond. He took that as a yes and put the container in the microwave. It sparked when he turned it on, but nothing blew up, so it was all good.

"You know, you're going to have to get used to doing things yourself around here. I won't be around all the time to help you."

Annette nodded like she understood, but the blank look on her face told a different story. She smiled at the ding of the microwave that alerted her to the end of meal preparation and waited for Nny to get a spoon for her to eat it with.

"Here. Eat. I'll be downstairs. Scream if you accidentally injure yourself. Otherwise, don't bother me."

Nny left Annette standing in the kitchen with her meal, confused and alone.

Author's Note: It was probably four in the morning on Christmas, or rather the day after, and I was just sorta sitting there, half asleep and in a stupor. Suddenly, I got this really evil poem idea. I love screwing up nursery rhymes, ya see, and this just popped into me head.

"A little bitty French kid

Crept into Nny's house

He killed her mom and

The little girl passed out.

When she came to

There were bodies everywhere

And the little bitty French girl

Refused to leave Nny's lair."

Adorable, non? Anyway, I thought it was kinda funny how it pertained to me fic. Oh, and as a side note, it was REALLY hard to come up with a name for Antoinette-Annette. I eventually ended up asking a friend's mom that had taken a lot of French and had even been there one. When I told her I was using Antoinette for the name of a little skittish girl, she was all like "Well, makes sense-Antoinette got her head chopped off," and laughed. I laughed too, but for a totally different reason. I think we all know why what she said was so ironic.

Anyway, we came up with Annette, which works very nicely, since it's close to Antoinette and easier to say. (Special artist secret: Antoinette was my French name at skool! Go recycling!) Ugh, people, I know I'm screwing up Nny horribly already, but please bear with me. I'm trying, here, but it's so HARD to write these situations without going at least a LITTLE out of character. Oh well. The Flaming Lips blast through my stereo, and the little insomniac called Raven needs to get back to work. (INSOMNIACS OF THE UNIVERSE UNITE!) Now I see why so many artistic people are nocturnal... (Jhonen rocks!) Eh, I better go and work on the story before me rents find out I'm on the computer after midnight...damned parental units trying to kill my creativity...eh, whatever. Back to yer strangely scheduled program. singing oh, Yoshimi...they don't believe me, but you won't let those robots eat me, yoshimi...

Annette looked around the darkened house with a strange degree of calmness. She had seen her mother murdered just hours before, and now the killer was feeding her-sort of. The girl was lucky to be alive, but right about then, she should have been screaming at the top of her lungs and sprinting down the street to someone that could call the police.

Yet here she was, standing in a blood-stained kitchen, eating "skettios," as that scary man had called them. The stuff in the can looked like some sort of pasta, but Annette wasn't too sure that's what it was. After all, escargot didn't really look like snail when you dug it out of the shell, and it didn't taste like it, either.

_I wonder if he's going to kill me in my sleep..._ thought Annette morbidly, swallowing a gooey spoonful of food. _Ugh, this stuff is so disgusting...Tastes good, though..._

There was a series of screams and thuds from the basement, followed by a strange gurgling sound like a clogged drain. Annette shivered, but decided not to investigate. She had the feeling that her mother was not this madman's only victim.

Annette wondered if anyone missed her yet. Probably not; they'd told the nice hotel woman that they'd be out for at least that night, if not longer. Her mother had said that they were on their way to meet Annette's father. Well, that certainly hadn't been him.

_He looks like me, though._ Annette shivered again. _Stop thinking like that! He's a murderer! There is no way that you could be related to him! But he lived in the house Maman said he'd lived in...No. There was no way-_

_CRASH!_ Annette jumped. The can of skettios had fallen out of her hands and fell to the floor. She stooped to clean it up realized there was nothing around to mop the food up with, and stood again. Annette settled for scooping as much of it as she could back into the can and dropping the lot of it into the garbage can in the corner. Not very pretty, but it worked.

_Dear God, it's messy in here._ Annette tutted. _Obviously there's been no women around lately. _(Sexist, I know, but one: I'm a girl, so I can say whatever I damned well please, and two: Annette was raised in a very old-fashioned household. So there. No chidings, please. puppy dog eyes You wouldn't yell at _me,_ would you? grins Thought so.) _This place really must be cleaned up._

And so, for whatever reasons could be fathomed in her eight-year-old mind, Annette began what was the first actual cleaning the house of heaven had received since Nny had moved in.

A scream. Nny looked up, thought for a moment, and traced the sound. Female, yes, but older. Mid-twenties, alto speaking voice. Most likely the model on the floor above. Those scorpions had probably started to _really_ sting by now.

It wasn't Annette, he was sure of that. Children had different voices, made different sounds. Not that he had ever captured one. No, he would never do that to a child, an innocent. The young hadn't had a chance to become the tormentors or the victims yet. But he had heard them screaming.

Ah, the innocence of children. The child being forced to eat dirt in the skoolyard, for instance. The ones who stood around and laughed. The little girl being pelted with spitballs and gum and playground balls. Their screams were different. Very different from the noises they made as adults.

Nny smiled. He was off on a tangent again. He tightened the straps around a cheerleader's arms and carefully selected a razor-sharp scalpel from a tray of instruments. His victim struggled, but the stitches on her neck made it plain why she made no sound. After all, how much sound _could_ one make without vocal cords?

"Sadly, we'll have to make this fast," Murmured Nny to the girl, sizing her up for the first cut. "Hmm. I suppose we'll start on the organs in your abdomen. Seems such a pity to waste your struggles by going straight for the heart. Take the pain as an indication that you still live, _cheerleader._ Feel the pain you caused me and _countless_ others!"

He had cut too deep. The girl's blood spilled out, along with her life, before Nny could even remove anything. What a waste of pain. He put the body away in a room reserved for the corpses he hadn't gotten a chance to bury yet. The two legless victims he had chained to the wall in the room screamed for him to let them out, but he ignored them as usual, only pausing to note that they'd survived for three weeks in his little morgue without food or water.

But back to Annette. Nny couldn't help feeling that he shouldn't leave a small child alone for long, especially in...well, yes, he'd better go see to it that the girl at least had a decent place to sleep. He wandered back up the stairs, counting the steps to the "normal" part of the house-if you considered bloody walls and random amputated limbs decomposing next to dolls stuffed with dead rats "normal."

_777, 778, 779, 780._ Nny opened the door, and a wave of some sort of soapy smell nearly knocked him back down all 780 steps. He swayed slightly, then looked around at a sight he didn't think would ever be seen in his home.

The place was _clean._ Not spotless, of course, but most of the blood had been washed off of the furniture and walls and floor. The rotting limbs of various victims had been thrown in the trash, four black bags that were heaped by the front door, and the floorboards gleamed dully. Everything had been scrubbed in the kitchen, all the dishes stacked in the cupboard, and there were fresh flowers in a glass on the table. Nny stared around wildly before bolting to the room he had considered his.

That too had been cleaned. Even his mot sacred of sanctuaries had not escaped the wrath of whatever had gone on this mad cleaning spree. The dresser was in order, the shards of glass swept up from underneath the mirror. Nothing remained of the grotesque dolls he used to have scattered about, and the manacles hung empty from the ceiling.

Nny did a double-take. Something was missing from his dresser. Well, not just _one _thing. _Two._

Annette was curled up, fast asleep, on his bed, clutching tightly the Doughboys in her tiny pale hands.

Annette awoke to the sound of the scary man yelling at her in English. She didn't understand most of what he was saying, but it was clear from his tone that he was not happy. The little girl squeaked and cowered on the corner of the bed farthest away from him, still hugging the two little dolls she'd found on the dresser to her chest.

The man yelled at her some more, then ripped the dolls from Annette's arms. She started crying, terrified, and he stopped being so loud. He just stood there, digging his fingernails into the styrofoam figures and breathing heavily. Annette paused just long enough in her sobbing fit to watch him set the dolls back down on the dresser.

Then he turned back to face her, and Annette screamed. She buried her face in her arms and bawled, the curtain of her black hair hiding her eyes from her mother's killer. She felt the bed shift slightly as someone sat down next to her, and her heart pounded in her ears.

Suddenly, something poked through Annette's hair. She jumped, and a candy stick fell into her lap. She stopped crying and picked it up, recognizing the thing as one of the delicious, mouth-scalding treats the nice boy had given her. She unwrapped it and stuck it in her mouth, ignoring the man next to her.

He said something to her that she only barely understood. She'd heard the words enough by then to figure out what they meant. There was the word "crying" in there, that wet thing her eyes did when she was sad or scared, and "done," that meant stop. She could only assume that he was asking if she was finished with her bawling.

"Yes," she answered, another English word she'd heard before that seemed appropriate.

The man seemed surprised. He began to talk very fast and loud, running all his words together so that Annette was unable to understand anything except those words: "yes," "crying," and "done." But she may have been mistaken; there were plenty of words that, when strung together, could sound like them.

Annette just calmly finished her treat and waited for the man to stop talking. He finally did, and Annette spoke.

"Je suis fatigue. Bonne nuit, monsieur."

The man looked confused, so Annette curled up on the bed again and closed her eyes. She felt a barely perceptible shift, and he left the room. Annette smiled and fell asleep.

"Squee, get over here!"

Squee glanced over toward house number 777 and saw his neighbor waving at him. He sighed and put away his car keys, ambling over to where Nny stood.

"What is it?"

"That girl, the French one, she cleaned my house last night!"

"And this is so incredible because...Nny, I've got to get to skool."

"But I was just downstairs, um, well, you know, and then I went back up to make sure she hadn't killed herself, and she'd cleaned the place! I hadn't even told her to."

Squee rolled his eyes. "She probably got bored. Your house isn't exactly the cheeriest of places, you know."

"And I think she's starting to understand me! She started crying because I yelled at her for moving the Doughboys, and when I asked her if she was done bawling, she said 'yes!' English! A few hours and she's already answering questions!"

"Why are you telling me this now? Can't it wait until I get back?"

Nny paced back and forth in front of his annoyed neighbor. "I still don't understand her much, though, and she doesn't _really_ understand me, either. I need you to translate for me."

"I need to get to skool-"

"It'll only take a minute!" Nny pulled him inside, grinning insanely.

"Annette!" he called, and the small girl ventured timidly out of the kitchen.

"Bonjour, Annette," murmured Squee by way of greeting, realizing that there was no way to get out of this.

"Bonjour, M-Squee. Ca va?"

"Ca va bien, merci. Et toi?"

"Tres bien." She stood there, looking at him expectantly.

(Note: around speech indicates that the speaker is talking in French. I is a lazy Raven. I take shortcut. )

"What? Oh, um... Nny wants me to translate something for him. " Squee listened to a long monologue from Nny. " He says he's very happy with your cleaning and that he hopes you were not too scared of his yelling last night. He was very tired and he's sorry if you are unhappy with him. He also says sorry about the killing your mom thing. Nny is so annoying sometimes. Don't mind it if he doesn't seem to care about you. He does care, but he's not used to having anyone near him, really. If you need anything, just keep saying 'get Squee' over and over again until he does. I'll be happy to translate for you. I have to go to skool now, though, so I'll see you in a few hours, okay? "

Annette nodded. " Tell him I wasn't scared last night, just tired and crabby. And thank him for the candy. It is very good. I hope you have a good time at skool. Oh, and before you leave, please tell Monsieur that I need different food and more clothes. I don't mean to be a burden, but I'm getting these clothes all dirty, and skettios get disgusting after awhile. Thank you again, Squee. Salut."

"Salut. I'll tell him. Take care. "

Squee relayed the information. "And make sure she gets food other than skettios. She's starting to get sick of them. And she wants more clothes. Annette says she doesn't want to make you mad, but she really needs new clothes. Maybe you can ask Dev-er, I mean, maybe you and Annette can go out shopping today. I've gotta go now. Bye."

He ran out the door, leaving the girl and the killer alone with their language barriers.

Nny looked down at Annette distastefully. "Wonderful. Now I have to go out and get you stuff. I have to go _out_ amongst the _maggots_ to get you food and clothing. God, I'm glad I never had kids."

Annette smiled and nodded like she understood. That was one thing, at least, that he liked about her. She always acted polite and was quieter than the other children he'd come across. That, and she acted like she understood him instead of gaping like an idiot.

"Well, come on. Let's get this over with."

He seized her hand roughly and left the house, pausing only to take some random notes from a small pile of cash under the floorboards. It was enough. Annette said nothing when he pointed at his car and opened the passenger side door; she just climbed onto the seat and fixed the seatbelt across her tiny chest.

The drive was uneventful. The two pedestrians Nny had run over were gone by the time they arrived at the mall, scattered across two miles of pavement. Annette looked only mildly disturbed as they walked into the noisy, crowded building.

"Find a store you like," Nny instructed her, not really expecting her to understand. He figured that when she saw something she liked, she'd gravitate toward that shop.

And he was right. Annette's ears perked up, and she immediately headed for a dark store with a sign above its round entrance reading "Hot Topic." Nny smiled when the dark music reached his ears from inside, and he followed her in without a fight. These places always had the best victims, after all.

One of the workers, a teenaged girl with a wild head of blue-black hair and a tattered nametag labeled "Raven," looked up and smiled at Nny when he walked in as if he was a frequent customer. Annette looked up at the girl, wide-eyed, and grinned before scampering off to look at clothes.

"Greetings, Stranger," called Raven to Nny. "How do ye be, four two be?"

"I be four two be just fine," he replied automatically, recalling dimly some sort of stupid little greeting he had heard teenagers use a time ago.

"That your daughter?"

Nny took a moment to realize that the girl had started talking again.

"What? Oh, not exactly. Close enough, I suppose. She wanted new clothes."

"You come here often?"

"I don't like crowds much."

"Me neither. Seems weird I'd work in a store like this, but at least most of the humans here are nice. Strange that a little girl would want to come here, though. I mean, we've gotten all types, but kids are a rarity."

"Annette just ran in here, so I thought I'd follow."

"Ah. Attracted by the music, probably. Yo, Tenna!"

A very hyper-looking young woman popped up from under the counter. "Yes'm?"

"Go help the kid find what she likes, okay? Her name's Annette. Right?"

"Er, yes." Nny started looking around warily, eyeing the exit like he planned on making a run for it.

"Will do, Rave!" Tenna jumped over the counter and sprinted over to Annette, squealing something about "TALK TO SPOOKY!"

Five minutes later, another shout from Tenna.

"Um, Rave, she doesn't speak English! I'm gonna try French, okay?"

"Go ahead...Honestly. Tenna's great, but sometimes she can get to annoying." Raven rolled her eyes. "You look scared. Is it the skeleton?" Raven fingered the arm of a, eighteen-inch rubber skeleton that hung around her neck on a long silver chain. "Nny doesn't bite, you know. She's a good girl."

"Pardon?"

"I said she's a good-"

"No, I mean what did you call it?" Nny stared almost creepily at the teen, and she laughed uncomfortably.

"Um, her name's Nny. I was going to call her Karasu, but she told me her name was Nny, so..." Raven blushed. "Stop staring at me!"

"Eh, sorry." Nny looked over the girl's head at the wall of concert tees in the back of the store. "It's just funny, sort of."

"What?"

"Your skeleton being named Nny. That's my name."

"Seriously? Damn, that's weird. I didn't think it was a common name."

"Yes, well-"

Annette suddenly catapulted into him, cutting off his reply. She had an armload of clothes, and Tenna, who catapulted into Raven a second later, had even more clothes, plus an armload of miscellaneous items that Annette had shown interest in.

"She said she likes this stuff!" exclaimed Tenna excitedly, tossing the merchandise onto the counter. "There's a bunch of shirts and pants and skirts and socks and underwear and hair stuff and nail polish and jewelry and a jacket and shoes and gloves and a lot of stuff!"

Annette added her armload to the pile and tugged on Nny's wrist, chattering away in French. He sighed, glanced at the amused Raven, and began sorting through the mound of stuff.

Eventually, they got it narrowed down to about half of the things Annette had pulled out. She refused to put anything else back, so Nny just took out his money and paid for an Emily shirt, two Zim shirts, a Gir shirt, a TNBC tank, an Emily dress, half a dozen pairs of jeans, ten pairs of socks in various designs and from various cartoons, three skirts, enough underclothes to keep her happy for years, a black trench coat, a pair of Doc Martens, three necklaces, a choker, two bracelets, an Emily journal, three pens, some elbow-length gloves, a TNBC hat, a hooded Emily sweatshirt, an Emily blanket, pillowcase, and sheets, more hair...things than Nny could count, a Sally doll, a Jack Skellington doll, and two DVDs-Invader Zim and the Nightmare Before Christmas. Raven announced the total, agreed to make it several purchases, and handed out more little stamp cards than she had that week.

"God, you two, buy out the whole store next time, okay?" she laughed, grinning at the two bag-laden shoppers. "Hope to see you around here again."

"Bye, Nny! Bye, Annie!" screamed Tenna over the screechings of some sort of industrial Goth-metal.

"Thank you. I'm sure we'll be back. Annette seems to like it here."

"You mean you don't _know?"_ Raven raised an eyebrow.

"Well, eh, I don't speak much French."

"Weird. Work on it, kid. It's gonna get _real_ old if you can't understand each other. Salut, Annette. Salut, Nny." Raven winked. "By the way, Devi says hi."

The two shoppers left, staggering under the weight of innumerable bags, and returned to Nny's car. Nny put what he could in the trunk and dumped the rest in the backseat. Annette happily curled up on in the passenger's seat and opened her new journal. Jack and Sally were curled around her neck, looking over her shoulder as she wrote.

"Do you want to stop by home so you can change?" Nny asked, getting into the driver's seat.

Annette nodded, but stared at him blankly.

Nny sighed, then mimed pulling a shirt over is head. "So you can _get dressed._ You know, _change into something you bought today?"_

"Ah, oui, monsieur!" Annette nodded again, this time actually comprehending what he'd said.

"Eh, oui...Annette." _What the hell was that word Squee and Annette kept using?_ "Eh, bien. Tres bien."

Annette grinned and laughed before scribbling something down in the journal.

_Dear Diary,_

_Today, that Nny person took me shopping so I could get some new clothes. He's not so bad once you get to know him. I think. He tried to talk to me in French. That was funny, but at least he's trying. Now he's looking at me like he's mad I won't tell him what I'm writing. It's not my fault that I don't know enough English to tell him. My mother-I'm not going to think about her. Nny is nice and he got me new clothes and this journal and my new friends, Jack and Sally. Plus he feeds me. I think I will be happy here. Mostly. More than I was with the lady. The lady was mean. She scared me. Nny is nice, even though he scares me sometimes too. I think he's more afraid of me than I am of him, though. Maybe we just need to get used to each other. And learn each others' language. Oh well. We'll save that for later. Now we're back at the house, and I have to change into some of my new clothes so we can go get more food. Goodbye!_

_-Antoinette (P.s. Nny calls me Annette because he says my real name's too hard to say. Isn't that funny?) _

Annette got out of the car and carried as many bags as she could inside. They were deposited in the room with the dresser, but the dresser had been moved to another room. Nny had insisted that she use the room as her bedroom, even though it had been his room and his bed. He just mumbled something about the living room and had kept dragging the dresser out.

The little girl quickly delved through the bags and came up with a Gir shirt, a pair of jeans with one of Emily's cats on the pockets, the Doc Martens, some socks, the trench coat, and some jewelry. Nny waited patiently while she changed and fastened the jewelry on. Then she ran out with the shoes and trench coat, and Nny had to wait for her to tie the shoes and figure out whether or not she wanted to button or tie the coat. (She eventually decided on neither.) Then they were off again, this time on a food run.

Annette bounded through the doors of the supermarket first, chattering happily and trying not to trip over her own feet. Nny followed a second later, warily eyeing everyone and everything in the brightly-lit store. It was mid-afternoon, so the lighting was especially harsh. Annette, of course, paid no mind, but Nny cringed in the sheer blindingness of it all.

But even he could stay scared for so long with Annette giggling and running up and down aisles, pointing out items and investigating the coupon dispensers. Eventually, he just had to smile at the child's antics.

Until a very annoying cashier popped up behind him.

"Sir, is that your daughter?" he drawled, pointing at Annette, who was scaling the shelves in the canned foods aisle, looking for the best soups and juice.

"Yes..."

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to keep the brat under control, you fag."

Nny froze. "Excuse me? Did I just hear you correctly? Because I could have _sworn_ that you referred to Annette as a 'brat,' and me as a 'fag.' That isn't proper language to use around a child."

Suddenly, there was a knife protruding from the cashier's skull. Nny distastefully watched the body fall, then continued on his way, catching the items Annette threw his way. The little girl didn't even look behind her to see what the commotion was about. This was probably a very good thing for her sanity.

A large crowd had, by this point, gathered around the body. Most people were too horrified to do much, but a few had gotten a head start on the screaming and panicking thing. And yet Annette remained blissfully unaware that Nny had just slaughtered a cashier.

"Are you done yet?" grumbled the madman in question, glancing at the nearly overflowing shopping basket...thing. (What the hell are you even supposed to call those things, anyway? ;; -Raven)

Annette hesitated for a second, then laughed. "Non, Monsieur."

Nny sighed and kept following, wondering if they would have to go through this very often. Another cashier got in his way, and the unfortunate irritant was quickly dispatched with another small dagger from Nny's pocket. The crowd really got going on the screaming thing, but neither Nny nor Annette paid any attention to them.

"Are you done _now?" _Nny snapped upon finally catching up with the French girl at the end of the cereal aisle. "I'd like to be going soon, if that's not a problem."

There was a dangerous edge in that last comment that even Annette understood. She smiled, nodded, and allowed herself to be led to the front of the store, where trembling cashiers gladly gave them the food at no charge at all. Those people were very nice. Nny made a mental note to stop by again next time he needed food.

"It's almost five. We should really be getting back home," muttered Nny to no one in particular.

Annette nodded, and Nny gave a small strangled sort of scream. The car peeled out of the lot, striking some sort of animal-or maybe it was a small child-as it tore down the road. The small girl clutched tightly to Jack and Sally, eyes widening noticeably at the ever-increasing number on the speedometer.

Two minutes later, Annette shakily stepped out of the car, gripping her dolls so tightly that her nails were actually starting to cut through the material of Sally's dress. Nny threw the bags of food through the door and trusted Annette to put the stuff away. He skulked into the living room with some sort of vague plan to go torture something and froze when a small rustling sound caught his attention.

"Hey, Nny." Squee greeted him with a small smile and leaned forward from his position on the couch. "Thought I'd stop by to check up on you two, but nobody was home. You really should lock the door. Where's Annete?"

"Kitchen. I didn't feel like putting away the food."

Squee smiled and looked over at the doorway to the kitchen. Annette had appeared at the sound of her name and was applying a layer of black gloss to her lips.

"Bonjour, Annette-_For God's sake, Nny, what did you DO to her?"_ Squee stared, horrified, at the little girl in black.

"She saw a store she liked, Squee. It's not my fault she chose Hot Topic."

"Bonjour, Squee!" she squealed, running up to and hugging Squee. "Ca va?"

"Eh, ca va...et toi?"

"Ca va fantastique! Je te presente mes amis, Jack et Sally." She shoved her dolls in Squee's face and grinned happily when he shook their hands. "Aimes-tu?"

"Oui, Madame."

Nny made an impatient noise. Annette smiled, muttered a goodbye, and ducked out of the room. Then Nny and his neighbor were alone.

"You took her to Hot Topic."

"So it would seem."

"You took an _eight-year-old_ to a _gothic sanctuary."_

"Yes."

Squee shook his head.

"What is it?"

"Nothing...I'm just wondering how anyone could be that screwed up. It's hard to believe, but then, I'm talking to a mass murderer."

Nny looked toward the kitchen. "Are you going to leave soon? I was planning on torturing some more cheerleaders."

"Fine. I need to talk to Annette for a second before I leave, though, okay?"

"Go right ahead."

Squee stood and wandered off toward the kitchen. Nny sighed and opened the basement door, wondering if the people in the morgue had expired yet..

"Annette?" Squee glanced around the eerily clean kitchen and spotted the girl at the counter, placing various canned foods into the cupboard under it.

"Oui, Squee?" Annette turned and smiled scarily.

"Eh... Are you and Nny getting along well? "

"Oui, tres."

" So he hasn't done anything...alarming yet? "

" Not really. "

" What do you mean, not really? "

" Well, there was some screaming sounds earlier, and more last night, but I think he was just angry about something. Screaming is good for getting rid of pent-up rage. "

" You know about his..._problems,_ right? "

" Which ones? If you mean the insomnia, I noticed right away. "

" No, I mean his, er, more _violent_ of habits. "

" Oh, of course. He is a very angry person. "

" It doesn't bother you at all? "

" I'm sure I'm going to have a lot of issues later on in life, but for now I'm fine. You get used to things. "

Squee shivered. " Not everything. "

" Are you well, Squee? "

A smile. " No, but I'll live. I'm more concerned for your health than mine. "

" I'll be fine, my friend. Your neighbor seems to have taken a liking to me. Still, if it makes you feel better, I promise to let you know if he goes crazy on me. " Annette grinned that same eerie grin again, the smile of a person who is dangerously close to insanity. " You should go. It is late, and you have skool tomorrow, if I am correct. Goodbye, Squee, and have a pleasant sleep. "

"Salut, Annette."

Squee shook his head and left feeling a little disturbed.

Annette awoke several weeks later to the sound of screams. Nny had apparently gotten pissed off again. She wondered if he was painting. The canvases hung randomly throughout the house seemed to be his works, but Annette had never seen him actually paint before. People did odd things when they were painting.

The French girl sat up and looked around her room, eyes scanning the many drawings she had taped to the walls. Countless flat faces of somehow terrifying ragdolls stared back at her from the papers, their soulless eyes seeming to watch her. She smiled. This room was hers already.

More screams and a thud. Annette got up and padded down the hall, wondering if maybe Nny had actually injured himself this time. The basement door was partially open, and so she took it as an invitation to venture down the creaky wooden stairs.

Yet another scream, this time ending in a gurgle. Something was not right. Annette followed the sound to a dimly lit room bare except for a wall of assorted knives and swords. Nny was kicking something into another room and shut the other door just as she came into view. He turned, and Annette was greeted by a very blood-drenched homicidal maniac.

Annette screamed. Nny tried to say something, but she was already tearing back up the stairs. The small girl bolted to her room, locking the door and shoving a chair under the doorknob to try to barricade it better. She hid under her blankets in the corner of her bed farthest away from the door and sat there, shuddering.

There was a knock on her door, and Annette's pulse skyrocketed further. She made no sound, and the man went away. Shakily, Annette pulled out her diary and hugged Jack to her chest as she wrote:

_Dear Diary,_

_Something is horribly wrong here. That man, Nny, is a murderer. I knew from the start that he'd killed before, but I just saw him covered in new blood. There is something terribly twisted about him. I don't know why he's this way, but I'm terrified that he'll get me next, now that I know his secret. Oh, God, I hope he doesn't kill me. I did nothing to deserve to be looked after by a homicidal maniac. I don't think. But he seemed so nice, apart from the yelling at me thing. I guess sometimes a nice outside can be hiding a warped inside. I think Squee knows about it, too, because he asked me awhile ago if I knew about Nny's "violent habits." I assumed he'd meant the short temper, but I guess there was more to it than I thought at first. Maybe I should talk to Squee. He might know what to do. Until then, I just hope I can survive._

_-Antoinette _

She set the diary down and hugged Jack tighter, groping for Sally under the covers. A short time later, she was asleep again, having fainted from sheer terror.

Awhile later, something scraped across the floor. Annette awoke this time to see her door slowly opening. Nny stood in the doorway, most of the blood washed off. He looked almost ashamed as he crept up to the bed and sat down next to Annette.

"Annette, please don't be scared..." He stared at her, pleading. "I didn't mean for you to see that. I'm sorry. Little kids shouldn't see that kind of thing."

Annette jut looked back at him, wide-eyed and uncomprehending. Nny moved to put a hand on her shoulder, and she shrunk back with a squeak.

"Annette, I'm not going to hurt you. Dammit. I've got you scared out of your mind. Poor kid. I already said I'm sorry. Stop shaking."

The girl just stared and nodded mutely.

Nny sighed. "Well, then, I guess I should get you out of the house. Squee should be leaving for skool shortly. I think I'll have him take you with."

Annette brightened at the mention of Squee. Nny took note of this and left quietly, wondering how he was going to get his neighbor to let an eight-year-old French girl follow him around all day.

"What?"

"I said I'd like you to take Annette to skool with you."

"Nny, French isn't my _only_ class, you know."

"I realize that. But Annette...is very distressed right now. I think getting her away from the house would do her good. And I'm not entirely sure she wants to see me anytime soon."

"Nny, I can't just take her with me to skool!"

"Please, Squee? Just for today."

"Well...fine. It's weird having you actually try to plead with me." Squee dumped his book bag in teh back seat of his car. "I'll go tell her that she's got ten minutes to get ready. You go...do whatever you do during the day."

Nny smiled gratefully and disappeared around the side of the house without another word.

Squee approached the girl's bedroom cautiously, not caring to get caught in the cross-fire of an eight-year-old's defense system. He found her still cowering in her bed, clutching her TNBC dolls. She looked up fearfully when he entered, but smiled in recognition of her friend.

" Are you okay, Annette? "

" Not exactly. Why are you here? "

" Want to come to skool with me today? "

" Okay. "

" You have ten minutes to get ready. "

" I'll make it. "

Squee left the room and sat down on the couch in the living room to give Annette some privacy. She emerged a few minutes later with a black Emily shirt and jeans on. A few necklaces were fastened around her neck, and she was putting her hair up into a messy ponytail. Annette paused only to put on her trench coat and Doc Martens, and then they were off.

(Author's note: DAMMIT! MERDE! AND OTHER SUCH CURSES! I think I may have to go for multiple chapters on this one. NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! WHY MUST I ENDURE THE THING I SO HATE?!?!?!?!?! Eh, if you haven't guessed, chapters are the bane of my existence. Damn, though. O well. I think I'll just go for, like, four reeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllyyyyyyyyyy long chapters or something, because fifty short ones would kill both me and anybody weird enough to actually READ this horribly warped piece of fiction. Eh, whatever. Back to yer regularly scheduled program.)

Annette remained eerily quiet through the car ride to the hi skool. Squee looked over at her frequently, nestled as she was in the seat next to him, clutching those creepy dolls. She never looked back.

They went to the main office upon arriving and got Annette a visitor's badge with her name scribbled on it in her neat childish scrawl. Squee made sure that she was holding tightly to his hand before braving the crowded halls and making his slow way to his first class. The little girl did not seem unnerved by the sheer volume of people surrounding her, or at least she made no outward signs of her discomfort.

French was second hour. They made it through first hour with only a short explanation of why Squee had brought an eight-year-old with him to skool, but French would require a more in-depth explanation. Squee slowly approached the dim classroom, dreading the inevitable interrogation.

"Bonjour, Todd," called the teacher, Mme DeFleur, looking interestedly at Annette. "Bonjour, mademoiselle."

"Bonjour, Madame. Je te presente Antoinette."

"Bonjour, Madame. C'est Annette, s'il vous plait." Annette gave a tiny bow and averted her gaze from the tall professor.

" Who is this, Todd? I didn't know you were bringing a guest. "

" Please, Madame, Squee's friend is looking after me since my mother died. I was getting tired of us not understanding each other, though, so Squee was nice enough to take me here. I hope I won't be too much trouble. "


	2. The, uh, chapter of DOOM!

The French teacher was silent for awhile. " I'm sorry to hear that your mother has passed on, dear. Who did you say was taking care of you? " She glanced amusedly at Squee; the nickname was apparently not one she was familiar with.

" Squee's friend, Nny. He kills people. A lot. He killed somebody this morning, right before I left. It scared me a little, but he killed my mom, too, so I'm getting used to it. He's nice, though. I like him. He let me buy all this stuff from Hot Topic. Meet Jack and Sally! "

Mme DeFleur smiled worriedly and shook the dolls' hands. Annette smiled and pushed back a stray strand of hair.

" Well, I hope you aren't learning any...habits. "

" Well, no. He _did_ try to give me pepper spray, though, but that didn't work out too well, so instead he gave me this. " She held up a small dagger on a key chain. (Thanks go out to Suki for letting me use this portion of a late-nite conversation we had on what Annette could be picking up from Nny. She rocks! )

Mme DeFleur's face paled. She quickly stood and turned to the class.

" Class, we have a visitor with us today. Say hello to Annette, class. "

"Bonjour, Annette!" called the class enthusiastically. Or at least as enthusiastically as a bunch of hi skoolers could be on a Monday morning.

" You may go sit down, Todd. Annette, would you like to go sit in the back with him? You could just stay in the front here and sit in the chair by the computer if you want to. What do you think?"

" I can sit at the computer if that's no trouble. "

" Go right ahead, dear. Do you want something to read? "

" No, I'm fine. I have a diary to write in. " She pulled out her journal and glanced shyly at the class. " Why are they staring at me? "

" They're not used to seeing a little girl speak fluent French. "

" Oh, okay, then. I'll just be writing, then. "

Squee looked up at Annette a few minutes later. She was completely absorbed in her writing, something that both amused and saddened the teenager. It reminded him of how he was at her age, always writing. He hoped that she wouldn't be as ridiculed as he had been.

Annette wasn't terribly frightened of the people. They were all talking very loudly in English in the halls and other classrooms besides the French one. Even some of the students in there spoke in English. But the language barrier just made it easier to think.

Sally stirred in her arms. The flurry of Annette's writing had thrown off the doll's balance, and now she was falling to the floor. A quick adjustment, and Sally rested comfortably next to Jack on the little girl's shoulders.

_Dear Diary,_

_I'm still at Squee's skool. He is very quiet around the other students. They don't seem to like him. I wonder if they ever pick on him. I really do like this skool. Maybe I'll ask to go back tomorrow. The professor came up to me and started teaching me to say things in English. At this rate, I'll be able to talk to Nny without using an interpreter. I wonder if he'll try to learn any French. Probably not. Squee's teacher is reading over my shoulder. I'd like her to go away. I wonder if Nny's killed anyone else today. Probably. I might have to clean up the kitchen again tonight. I wonder if there's anything left to eat? I should go now. Squee says the bell is almost about to ring. Goodbye, then. I'll write more later._

_-Antoinette_

Annette closed the journal and looked around. A tall girl, obviously a cheerleader, approached her with a huge fake smile on her face.

"Hi, sweetie!" she cooed, her grin widening even more.

" I can't understand English. "

" Oh, I'm sorry, Annette. So you're eight years old? Todd's been talking about you. "

" Yes, I'm eight. I'm staying with Squee's friend, Nny. He's a homicidal maniac. "

" Does that mean he's gay? "

" ...No. He kills people. "

" Oh. Okay. Just making sure, cuz a gay guy isn't the best to hang out with..."

" Whatever you say, Mademoiselle. "

The bell rang, and students swarmed out the door.

" If you need anything, just talk to me, okay? I gotta go to my next class. See ya, sweetie! "

She left, and Annette stared, annoyed, after her. Squee walked up and told her it was time to go. Annette stood up, grasped his hand, and let the teenager lead her out of the room and into the halls.

The next class was, ironically, English. Annette was quickly bored when she realized that the students all spoke English, that none of the French students were in the class with Squee. The teacher tried to talk to her, but upon finding out that neither of them spoke the same language, she left the girl alone.

So Annette instead focused her thoughts on her situation and what the future might hold. It all looked pretty bleak to her, and her mind quickly wandered to other subjects. Was she going to attend skool here? How would she manage without understanding anyone? Perhaps-

A rather sinister-looking boy threw a note at Annette's head. It bounced off of her forehead, startling her out of her reverie. She glared at the note's sender and was faced by a rather small, horned teenager that had red eyes. He motioned for her to open the note, and she cautiously unfolded the paper, expecting to be faced with a lot of squiggles that meant nothing to her French mind.

_Ca va, Annette?_ it read. _Je m'appelle Pepito. Es-tu l'amie de Squee?_

Annette glanced up sharply, face reddening. The boy who called himself Pepito smiled at her. It was a scary, fanged smile. Annette raised her hand and mumbled something about wanting to talk to Pepito, and the teacher, very confused, took the only word she recognized and assumed that it was Pepito she wanted to talk to. He ambled over, scarlet skin stretching farther around his mouth in that scary grin.

"Eh, ca va bien, merci," the little girl mumbled shyly. "Et toi?"

"Ca va bien aussi. Es-tu l'amie de Squee, Annette?"

"...Oui, Pepito."

" I hear you're staying with the homicidal maniac, Nny. Is that right? "

" Yes, and he's really very nice. Anti-social, but nice. He let me get all this nice stuff from a store called Hot Topic. I got Jack and Sally there, too. See? "

She held out the dolls, and Pepito nodded in approval. Annette knew she

was babbling, but she couldn't help it. This strange boy was starting to scare her a little. He listened patiently to her monologue without interrupting, but she still couldn't help but think that there was something wrong with him.

" Well, Nny certainly is an interesting character. He and my father were acquaintances for a short time, you know. He provided hell with many of its inhabitants, Nny. Very kind of him. "

" He has? Who did you say your father was? "

"Senor Diablo."

" Who's that? "

" The devil. "

" Oh. Okay. And that makes you...the... " Annette's face paled visibly.

" Yes, I am hellspawn, son of the devil, the antichrist, or any one of many other names you humans have given me. That's not a problem, is it? I hope you aren't frightened of me because of a little detail like that. "

" Um..._no,_ Pepito, of _course_ I'm not scared...It's just strange, is all... " She tried hard not to let her shaking show. " You know French, though? I didn't think many people here did. "

" Not many do, you're right about that. But Squee and I have known each other for a long time now, so we're taking the same classes. Besides, I know many languages already. Being the son of the devil is really pretty useful sometimes. "

Annette nodded mutely. The rest of the class was staring at the two, even Squee. The latter seemed to be more concerned with what was being said than what language was being used, exactly the opposite of the other students. The teacher just shook her head and went back to the lesson, even though, by then, no one was listening.

" So, Annette, you're a writer too? " Peptito had noticed the diary clutched in Annette's hands. " Is that a normal thing for you, or did you just start writing after you came here? "

" I've been writing for a long time, I think, but this is the first journal I've had. Nny got it for me a few weeks ago. It's pretty, see? " She held out the Emily journal, the four black cats on it seeming to watch you and Emily herself glaring out as if daring you to open the precious tome.

" Very nice, Annette. But really, you're not at all disturbed by the whole homicidal maniac thing? I mean, Nny kills people on a regular basis, and you're living in the same house as him. That doesn't scare you at _all? "_

" Not really. I saw him kill my mother right after I walked in the door, so not much scares me anymore. "

" Nice one, Nny. He kills a kid's mom. What did she do? "

" Said that I was his daughter and tried to make him help support me. "

" Weird. You're not _really_ his kid, are you? "

" I don't really know. My mother said I was, but she was kind of crazy, so maybe not. "

" You sure look like Nny, though. "

" I do? "

" Well, yeah. I was a little scared when you walked in; thought for a second maybe he was back. But you're too small, so I'm not exactly sure why I thought that. At any rate, it's kind of creepy, the resemblance. "

" You should get back to your work, Pepito. I don't want to distract you. "

"Merde. Eh, pardon. Salut, Annette."

"Au revoir."

Annette breathed a sigh of relief when the antichrist finally left her alone. She was starting to get panicky, talking to anyone for so long. And he was being so _nosey!_ A person shouldn't try to get somebody to discuss their private business. It just wasn't right. She hugged the dolls tighter to her chest and settled back to watch the students work.

Author's note: I'm getting bored again, so I've got more of that little poem I was typing out earlier:

That little bitty French girl

Has been here for eight weeks

It's kind of sad but she's

Getting used to all the shrieks

She cleans up all the blood like there's nothing happening

And that little bitty French girl has seen almost everything.

It sucks, I know, but I'm having fun. I love mutilating children's entertainment, especially stories and poems. Goddess, it's fun. Ah, Neptune's famed rain drums at the windows. Beautiful colors...needs more black, though. Anyway, Pepito was just too good to resist putting him in here. Devi should eventually show up, too, and Raven will be back soon. Just as a note, Raven in the story isn't really me, exactly. She's more of one of my other personalities. I've got fourteen of them, so I may as well use them, eh?

I'm not sure _which _of my alter egos she is, but rest assured that she's not going to make this a romance fic. Ugh, romance. Disgusting. It's not supposed to work that way in JtHM, you know. Nny has to remain unhappy, or at least he can't do the whole romance thing. I think he's incapable of it...

Anyway, that poem up there brings us a little ahead of schedule. Annette has only been here for a few weeks, a month, maybe. So I may or may not skip ahead. I think I'll finish up this day and maybe another one, then skip ahead. If this is getting boring, just skip the next paragraph or so.

This is the random paragraph that none of you will read because you are too bored to do so. The possum of the Grotto is a strange, mystical creature. Magical kittens live in my head. The Irkens are friends to Neptune. Sort of. You gonna make biscuits? You gonna make _biscuits?_ You gonna make BUISCUITS??? The time has come, the walrus said, to talk of many things. He lives under the Banyon tree. Why is the froggie staring at me, mommy? DID THE DOG SEND YOU?!?!?! Is that the magical rabbit come to save us from the wrath of the munchkins? SAVE US, OH BRAVE CRUSADER! Okay, I'm done.

Well, Annette seems to be getting along fine with everyone. I wonder how messed up her mind is. I mean, come on. One can only take so much before going insane. This could be fun...I go back to me writing now, cuz I'm a bad little Neptunian and I wasted almost a whole page with my nonsense. -Raven

" Did you have fun, Annette? "

"Oui, Squee."

Squee walked Annette up the driveway to Nny's house. All was eerily quiet, like nobody was home. But the car was still there, so unless he had gone off on foot, Nny was there. Still, though, the windows were dark.

"Nny? Are you here?" called Squee into the darkened house, fumbling for a light switch. Nothing.

Annette turned on a lamp and settled down on the couch, pulling out her journal. It really didn't bother her at all that Nny wasn't answering. He usually didn't make much noise unless he was in the basement, and even then it was sometimes silent. So while Squee hunted for the man, Annette just started writing and lost herself in the words.

"What are you shouting about?"

Nny had appeared next to Annette, blood dripping slowly to the ground. The girl didn't bother to look up and just kept writing. Nny glanced down at her journal before sitting down next to her to wait for Squee.

"Annette, I can't find-where did you come from?" Squee jumped upon noticing who was seated next to Annette.

"I was downstairs. Now what do you want?"

"I uh, just wanted to let you know that Annette's back."

"Then you've accomplished your goal. You can leave now."

Squee paused, then shrugged and turned to go.

"Salut, Annette. Salut, Nny."

"Salut, Squee," Annette mumbled, speaking for both her and Nny.

After a long time, Nny spoke.

"Are you hungry yet? It's about sunset."

Annette looked up and nodded. This was one of the first things she had learned to understand. Hunger was a basic need, after all. Nny sighed, stood, and ambled off toward the kitchen.

"Let's order pizza. I don't feel like cooking today." He didn't really expect Annette to understand him, but it had been a long time since he had really talked to anyone, so it didn't bother him.

Surprisingly, Annette spoke up. "Pepperoni."

Nny hesitated, then continued on his way. Pepperoni it was.

Annette made him refrain from killing the delivery kid. He was really pissing Nny off, too. But Annette gave him that big-eyed stare of hers, and he put the knife down. They ended up eating on the roof, watching the oblivious people go by in their little cars and strut down the streets. Annette proved to be a good companion; she never said a word and listened to Nny's monologue without complaint.

"Those humans down there, they don't care at all. They're too wrapped up in their own petty little lives to pay attention to anything else. Disgusting creatures. I hate them. They mock others out of ignorance, never stopping to consider how their victims feel. They satisfy their wretched desires, however perverted they may be. Most of them deserve to die, you know. I can see many of them walking about, living corpses destined for hell. It's only right for me to help them along, thin out their numbers for the few that are truly worthwhile. But there are so many of the disgusting ones. Sometimes, I don't know why I bother to go on. So many people out there. They're terrifying, the really ugly ones."

He trailed off. Annette nodded slowly, a look of genuine understanding gracing her delicate features. She had almost no grasp of the man's language, but hate was the same regardless of tongue. The way he spoke, the gesturing, the very aura he was giving off was enough to make his meaning clear.

"But then you get to the humans who _are_ worthwhile. It's the sad truth that most of them will end up dead before they can really do anything for the good of the universe. The only ones that live to be old are the ones that should have had their heads smashed in with blunt objects back in hi skool. Those good people are always so weak. They can't truly do anything. And I can't even tell the good apart from the evil anymore. The voices are gone, but I'm still as broken as ever. I wonder if the crazy person knows they're insane."

More nods of understanding. Annette quietly ate her pizza, watching Nny pace the roof. He hadn't eaten much more than a few bites of food. Annette had already devoured half of the pizza and was halfway through her fifth slice.

"You don't understand a word of this, do you?"

Annette still nodded.

"Thought so. It's cold up here and very late. You should go in. Children aren't supposed to be insomniacs."

Annette just nodded.

"Go. Inside. Please?"

Annette hesitated, then got up and nodded again. "Oui, Nny."

Nny watched her scale the wall to the kitchen window and disappear. Interesting child, that one. And she had called him Nny. That was different. Usually he was Monsieur, or something weird like that. Perhaps she was getting used to him.

But there was no reason to devote precious time to thinking about such things. Nny sighed and sat down, leaning back to stare at the stars overhead. They looked brighter somehow tonight than they had in the past. Washing the world in a cold blue light. He liked the light of the stars better than the light of the sun. The sun was too bright, blinding everything and sharpening colors into visual daggers that stabbed deep into the eyes of an insomniac. The stars softened everything, blurred it into a pleasant scene that caused no discomfort.

A few moments later, there was a sound from farther down the street. Someone had screamed. Nny cocked his head, locating the source of the noise, and smiled. Music to his ears. His reverie was dissipating fast, and the familiar rush of cold adrenaline was coursing through his veins. It was time to paint the wall again.

With a grace that should only be reserved for felines, Nny dropped down to the frozen ground. He felt in his pocket for a weapon, but came up with nothing. He always had at least one dagger on him; he was getting clumsy. A swift trip to the basement was enough to nicely equip him with all the necessary tools of his trade. There ought to be enough irritants in the cafes a few blocks away to satisfy him.

Ten minutes later, a huge explosion rocked the area. Nny nonchalantly ambled back to the house, glistening with something that looked black in the starlight, but was revealed to be crimson under streetlamps. Almost all of the tools he had started with clinked softly under his coat as he walked.

It had been most satisfactory.

The seasons were slowly, inexorably turning. Annette had woken up that morning to find Nny fast asleep on the roof, a thick layer of frost blanketing him. She prodded him until he awoke, and he snapped at her to go away. He always acted like that if he slept.

Two months had gone by since that truly terrifying night when Annette's mother had died, and the chill November air was very different from the muggy September night she remembered. It never failed to fascinate her, the smooth transition of the seasons and years. The cycle was almost flawless.

"Annette? What are you still doing up here? Come in. It's cold." Nny sat down next to her on the roof. "Are you okay?"

"Beautiful."

"What? What's beautiful?" He was used to Annette's occasional utterances of English phrases, but he still hated waiting for her to explain herself.

"Sky," she mumbled. "Weather. Autumn. Cold. Beautiful."

Nny looked out at the horizon, the fiery blaze of color coming over the hills. He smiled. It _was_ beautiful, in a strange, evanescent sort of way. He knew that in about fifteen minutes he would have to retreat inside to avoid the blast of light from the morning sky, but for now it was simply wondrous.

"Yes, Annette, it is beautiful."

" You are, too, you know, just in a strange, evanescent sort of way. Too bad you never acknowledge it. I think you could be a very good person if you tried a little. " Annette smiled at her guardian's confused expression and simply shook her head. "Tell you later. When learn English."

Nny just nodded, not bothering to voice his thoughts. The girl wouldn't ever be able to learn English enough for them to have an intelligent conversation. She was too old to learn a foreign language as well as her native one. Still, it wouldn't hurt to humor her.

"Inside now?"

"May as well. Are you going to go with Squee again today?"

The two vaulted over the edge of the roof in unison, landing in the same crouched position. Annette and Nny shared a small grin before diving through the two windows in the kitchen.

"You're getting good. You've been watching."

"Merci, Nny."

"Ca va?"

Annette hesitated, still not used to Nny's attempts at French, and answered with a simple "Bien, merci. Et toi?"

"Eh, ca va."

"You good too."

"Thank you." Nny gave a small bow. "I try. Now like I said, are you going to go with Squee to his skool today?"

"Non. Not today."

"Okay. What do you want to do today?"

"Paint."

Nny's turn to hesitate. "Good choice. You go get the paints. I'll get everything else. The kitchen or the living room?"

"Kitchen."

Nny nodded, and the two went about their tasks with a sort of excitement not usually exhibited by either of them. A few minutes later, they met in the kitchen with the supplies and cleared away everything from the ancient table to make room for art.

Annette immediately gripped a charcoal pencil in her tiny hand, sketching rapidly. It was a simplistic drawing, the shapes of two round eyes and a stitched-up gash that looked like a crooked smile quickly materializing on the paper, but she wasn't leaving it in black and white. A head, long, tangled hair, and a small, rag doll body became apparent, and she set down the pencil, favoring the gray paint.

Nny, meanwhile, had immediately started in on painting. The red eyes of...something jumped out at him from the canvas, and glistening fangs sneered evilly in a terrifying grin. The background was black, that much he knew, but the source of the light that illuminated the thing's face and arms was unknown. He paused to look at Annette's progress and was stunned to see a doll that looked eerily like the one Devi had painted, Sickness.

"Having fun, Annette?" he managed to ask at least somewhat calmly.

"Yes. Very fun."

Annette's eyes never strayed from her work. She painted even faster than she'd sketched, the black dress of the doll filled in almost as if by magic. An hour later, she sat back, the finished piece drying before her. She glanced up at Nny and smiled to see him back at work on is painting. A small clatter, and a brush fell to the floor. She picked it up and saw that Nny hadn't missed a beat.

_He loves painting. Amazing that he can work like that. I wonder if all those pictures in the house are his?_

"Nny, are you done?" Annette waved her hand in front of his face. "Nny?"

Suddenly, Nny sat back and breathed, then set his brushes down and looked at his creation. The partially illuminated monster glared back at him as though furious that he had managed to capture it on the canvas. He finally noticed Annette and smiled.

"What do you want to do now?" he asked, almost enthusiastic.

"Movie?"

"Fine choice. Let's go down to the independent cinema, shall we? They always show the best films."

Without bothering to clean up, the two wandered off to the movie theater a short distance away. They attracted only minimal stares from the passersby, but the few that _did_ look were quickly dispatched with little effort in one of the many small alleyways that crisscrossed the boulevard.

Once in the theater, the two took their seats near the front and were just sitting down when a somewhat familiar voice rang out.

"Hey, lookie! It's your friend, Dev! Member? Hey, Nny!"

Nny looked up to see Tenna and Raven dragging-who else-Devi toward him and Annette. He suppressed a smile and waited fro them to sit down next to him.

"Hey, Nny. Hello, Annette. Been awhile, eh?" Raven draped herself lazily over the chair two over, smiling at the little French girl.

"Hiya, scary person!" Tenna babbled, clutching Spooky tightly. "Spooky says HI!"

"Hello, girls." Nny turned to Annette. "Do you remember Tenna and Raven from the store, Annette?"

"Yes. Tenna funny. Raven nice. Who other girl?"

"That's Devi. An old friend." Nny gave Devi a small glance. "Devi, meet Annette."

"My God." Devi's mouth hung open stupidly. "Who the hell decided you were fit to take care of a KID?"

"Eh...long story. I'm acting as the girl's guardian, as her mother died a couple months ago."

"You mean you-" Devi sighed. "How bad is she?"

"What do you mean?"

"How screwed up is she from being with you twenty-four/seven?"

"Not very. Annette, talk to Devi."

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle Devi. Ca va?"

"Oh, God, she's a FRENCH kid?"

"Oui, je suis francaise. Ca va?"

"She's asking how you are," whispered Nny.

"I _know_ that. Bien, merci. Et toi?"

"Tres bien, merci. Nny est tres gentil et drole. Es-tu l'amie de Nny?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm his...friend. Sort of." Devi glared at Nny. "Are you okay, Annette? Nny hasn't tried to kill you or anything, has he?"

Blank stare. "Non. Why would he?"

"...Because he kills people. A lot."

Raven laughed. "Oh, right, he's a homicidal maniac, I'm sure. How could a murderer be commissioned guardian of a little girl?"

Tenna giggled. "Nny kills people a lot, but I guess he likes kids or something."

Raven's smile fell. "Are you guys kidding? Well, joke over. Come on, be serious."

" Nny killed some people on the way here. They were mean. " Annette's huge eyes looked up into Raven's, completely sincere.

"Oh. Wow. I am _officially_ disturbed now."

"Shut up, the movie's going to start soon." Tenna turned her attention to the screen, and the others followed suit.

Annette stared intently at Devi. "You pretty eyes," she chittered. At Devi's look of surprise, she blushed and added "Green. I not see green eyes."

"Oh, uh, thanks. You, um, have pretty eyes, too."

Then the room darkened, and everyone went silent.


	3. Philosophical conversations, inebriation...

Author's note: Goddess, I'm starting to run out of ideas. I think I'm going to end this fairly soon, but you never know. I'm onto the twenty-seventh page of this damned story, and I hope it won't be too long for anyone to read. Oh, well. There have been much longer fics...Anyway, Annette and Nny seem to be getting along better now, and Devi's finally popped up. It was only a matter of time, folks. Raven isn't going to have too much to do with the plot, but it's always fun to put characters in that have no idea about Nny's little...eh, _hobby. _And Tenna...well, she's just going to be Tenna.

Eh, I'm getting bored again. I better go back to the story...pleasant something, people.

"Nny, can you _stop_ doing that?"

Nny cleaned off his knife on his latest victim's shirt. He rolled his eyes at Raven, sighed, and tucked the weapon away.

"It's in my nature. Leave me alone."

Annette's eyes were very wide, and she didn't bother to wipe the blood off of her face. Nny saw her expression and smiled broadly.

"Oh, cheer up, Annette. Remember, you can't spell manslaughter without laughter!"

The eight-year-old's face twitched slightly, and she laughed. Raven just looked at her and shook her head.

"There are _so_ many things wrong with this picture."

Nny fingered a small dagger almost absent-mindedly while staring at Raven. He gave it an experimental dig into his palm and tossed it up in the air a few times. Completely silent, he judged the distance between them. Raven's eyes widened.

"Whoa. Calm down, Nny. I didn't mean to get you upset. It's just I'm as concerned about Annette as you are, you know? And a homicidal maniac is...erm, might not be exactly fitting to be..."

Annette giggled. "Don't play, Nny. She scared. Give me knife."

Nny reluctantly handed the dagger to Annette. She expertly flipped it into the air before catching it and slipping it into a pocket of her trench coat. Nny smiled and silently applauded her.

"She's learning so fast..."

"Oh, God. Guys, we should go now." Raven tugged at Devi and Tenna's sleeves.

"Hey, this is _fun!_" Tenna laughed and took hold of Raven's wrist. "Hey, you two, wanna go out to eat somewhere? My treat!"

"...I don't eat much..." Nny looked at Annette. "Are you hungry, Annette?"

"Oui, _tres_ faim."

Devi shrugged. "If she's paying, I don't see why not."

Tenna grinned and immediately dragged Raven off toward the bus stop. The other three followed, sharing a silent snigger at Raven's struggles.

A short bus ride and only three corpses later, they arrived at a small Japanese restaurant. Tenna, apparently, was a frequent guest there, and she eagerly shouted a greeting to the owners, an older couple and a young woman who was presumably their daughter. Devi and the owners exchanged short bows. Raven looked more relaxed, and she nodded to the young woman. Nny and Annette just bowed and followed at the rear.

"What can I get you today, guys?" the young woman, whose nametag read "Miyuki," asked.

"The usual, Mi. Dev'll have the same thing. Raven, how about you?"

"Um....Sushi?"

"What kind?"

"Um, how about crab, if you have it. Cooked, please."

"Okay, and you, sir?"

"Call me Nny, and...what is this?"

"Um...it's very good..."

"But what _is_ it?"

"Squid."

"Oh, okay, then. Sounds good."

Miyuki gave Annette a wide, friendly smile. "What would you like to eat, sweetheart?"

"Aimes-tu...poisson?" asked Raven.

"Oui, Raven. J'aime beaucoup poisson."

"She'll have sushi, too. Cooked fish, please. We don't want her getting food poisoning."

"She's French? What a _darling_ little girl. What's your name, dear?"

"Je m'appelle Annette."

"Oh, how lovely! Who is she with?"

"The guy that's covered in blood. The one that's sitting right next to her." Raven's face was rather pale.

"Oh, really? Your daughter?"

"Er...sort of. Not exactly."

"Well, you make sure to take good care of the kawaii little girl, okay? Now what did you guys want to drink with that?"

"Is is too early for alcohol?" Raven gave Miyuki a desperate look.

"Go ahead."

"Thanks. Then give me a bottle of sake."

"Bring another two and three Cokes, okay? Annette should have a Sprite or something." Tenna waved it away like it was nothing. "Arigato, Mi."

"You're welcome. Mom will bring out your drinks in a sec, and your food should be ready soon." Miyuki bowed and left.

"Nice girl, Miyuki. A bit on the rebellious side, but come on, aren't we all?" Tenna was talking coherently. How much had she had to drink already?

Annette giggled. "She say I cute. She think I Nny fille."

"Well, you _do _look a lot like him." Devi leaned back on her pillow and smiled. "It's a little weird to think of you raising a kid, Nny."

The group sat on pillows around a low, beautifully decorated table. Annette seemed to be fascinated with this, that is if her proddings and glances under the table were any indication. She inspected the cushion she was perched on with an expression on her face that stated clearly "This is weird. I didn't think Americans ate like this."

Miyuki's mother, Suki, whisked the drinks to the table in a matter of minutes. Annette nearly drained hers right away, so Suki brought her a refill. Raven consumed almost half of the sake in a single gulp, and afterward she seemed a little more at ease. The conversation rose up in the small, dim restaurant as time went on, and even Nny joined in occasionally. Miyuki stopped by a ways in and was soon part of the discussion.

"So how do we really _know_ anything? We just trust in the explanations offered to us by countless so-called 'experts' in the hopes of acquiring some form of concrete information." That was Nny, speaking slowly and with his eyes half-closed.

"We _don't_ know anything for sure. I mean, if we really wanted to, we could completely decide that gravity doesn't exist. Hell, we could walk on the _ceiling_ if we truly believed that it was possible." Devi.

"But we _can't_ just decide that gravity doesn't exist. We're bred to believe that it _does_." Tenna after a glass of sake.

"So? Why couldn't we just say that gravity is stupid and walk up the wall? Just because we're bred to say it's there doesn't mean that we have to _really_ believe it." Raven after a bottle of sake.

" Its not that simple. To say is one thing, but to _believe_ is quite another. "

"That's what I think, Annette. I mean, you can say that the moon is made of cheese, but to _believe _it, you have to completely overcome that basic logic you've been taught from infancy!" Tenna after another glass of sake.

"It's not impossible, though." Nny again. "Still, it deviates from my point. We really _know_ nothing. It's sort of like how when we look at things, we don't see the object, just the light bouncing off of it. We don't even know if the object is truly _there._ After all, we can make light reflect off of a lot of things. We can put it anywhere. So this room may not _really_ have a ceiling. We just _believe_ that it's there because we see light reflecting off of something there."

"True. And speaking of color, what is truly colorless? Because white and black can be colors, so it can't be either of those things, and gray is a color, and so is yellow and brown and dusty beige. What would you say is colorless?" Devi after a glass of Coke and sake.

"Well, black and white are voids-" Nny after a glass of sake.

"But we use dyes to make black and white, and dyes are colored water." Devi again.

"Perhaps colorless is like black and white and all the colors at once." Miyuki.

"Maybe, but it still doesn't quite explain it."

"Food." Annette was staring off at something behind the group.

Suki's husband, Hiro, appeared as if by magic, laden down with trays and plates of food. Miyuki quickly helped him set down his load, and Tenna thanked them. The other four followed suit in a mix of languages.

Annette actually seemed to like her food. She became entranced with the chopsticks set out for eating and quickly found many uses for them. Mainly poking people. Nny almost pulled a knife on her before catching himself and settling for poking her back.

Awhile later, the five slipped out of the restaurant with many goodbyes to the owners. Miyuki invited them to come back any time, even after hours as she and her parents lived above the place. Raven had to be half-carried to the bus. Devi nearly fell up the steps to the vehicle, and Nny wasn't doing much better. In fact, the only one besides Annette that seemed even remotely sober was Tenna, and she's had more to drink that anyone. Annette just gave everyone strange looks and tried to sit as far away from Nny as possible.

A few blocks and a busload of bodies later, Nny and Annette got off of the bus and walked back to Nny's house. That bus wasn't going anywhere anyway. Nny had trouble opening the door, so Annette opened it for him and escorted him to the living room, where he essentially collapsed onto the couch. The girl made no comment and went about her business elsewhere.

Author's note: why do I keep doing these things? oh well. Anyway, it's so fun to write drinking scenes. People get into the weirdest conversations...But whatever. Nny's currently got a hangover, so he won't be in the best of moods for awhile. We're gonna fast forward to a month or two later, okay? It should have worn off by then. And I have nothing else to say, so let's get back to the story, eh?

Winter was in full force. Snow had piled up everywhere, and the roof and become a health hazard to anyone stupid enough to brave the cold. Nonetheless, Nny and Annette were perched on the icy shingles at midnight, looking down on the portion of the city that was still visible in the thick fog. The latter was wondering if perhaps she should make Nny go inside and at least get a jacket before his arms froze off.

"Annette, are you...sane?"

The question threw her off. "Pardon?"

"I mean, you're not hideously warped, are you?"

"Not that I know of."

"Well, do you find it....amusing when people are tortured and killed?"

"Yes, it is very funny." Annette's huge eyes stared at Nny in a way that vaguely frightened him.

"Yeah, you're warped. God, this is wonderful. I've succeeded in destroying the sanity of a child." He sighed. "Well, I suppose you can always repress all this when you're an adult or something."

Neither of them were entirely sure if they were conversing in French or English. They had begun to mix the languages, using English phrases in with French and vice versa. It was now as natural to them as anything they could have done. The only thing annoying about it was that they often had to explain what they were saying when anyone else was listening to them.

"Why? I feel normal." Annette thought for a moment. "I'm not tempted to kill anything yet. Why should it be a problem?"

"Because children are not supposed to be so casual about death! It's....not right." Nny was silent for a time, looking out at the people rushing into buildings like hellfire itself was at their heels. "And it's odd, but for some reason it seems wrong that I keep killing people in front of you. I never used to have a problem with witnesses, but..." He shrugged. "Whatever. Anyway, it's late. You should go to sleep."

"I'm not tired."

"Kids need sleep. You will go inside _now._ I don't want to see you awake in ten minutes."

Annette smiled and slid down the roof, hooking one hand over the edge and swinging out of sight. Nny had been doing things like that for a month or so. It was funny, in a strange, uncharacteristic way.

Annette retrieved her dolls from the kitchen table and wiped the blood off of Sally's dress. It was a bit thicker tonight than normal. Perhaps that was the reason for Nny's little apology. She shrugged and went off to her room, pulling the diary out from under her pillow in the same fluid movement she used to fall onto the bed.

_ Dear Diary,_

_Nny is acting strangely. He seems to show regret for his actions, something that doesn't happen often. It's unlikely that he'll try to repent, but I must be on the lookout for any such actions. He might get a little scary if he's too serious about it._

_I've been here for almost....what is it? Four months? Five? I don't even know anymore. It seems like this place is home now. Oh, what am I saying? It was home the night I stepped foot in the place. As strange as it is, I like it. Nny is a very interesting person to know once you get past the....rough edges._

_I wonder if she was right about him. Is he my father? I highly doubt it, but...they're right. We DO resemble one another. At any rate, he seems to have unofficially adopted me. I'm not sure if I'm afraid or overjoyed._

_I really should sleep. It's very late. I promise I'll write more tomorrow. Perhaps then my head will be clearer._

_Antoinette _

Thirty seconds later, she was asleep.

Meanwhile, Nny was roaming the streets. His arsenal carefully arranged in the messenger bag at his side, he was humming to himself. The CD player was set on Ode to Joy, and he couldn't be happier. Nothing could destroy his good mood.

Then the rather grotesquely clothed teenager tripped him. He went down without a sound, but stood up and drew in a hiss of breath. The kid and his friends laughed at the blood slowly dripping down Nny's forehead and turned to leave.

"Where are you going?"

The quiet question startled the kids. They turned to see Nny rummaging through his bag with a calm attitude that vaguely frightened them. A small smile played around the man's lips even as his blood stained them red.

"Look, man, you are obviously screwed up in the head. Get away from us before you infect-"

Nny looked up, and the kid trailed off, too shocked to continue. Dead eyes were smoldering with something that wasn't hatred but pure bloodlust. Nny found what he was looking for and held up two daggers, crossing his arms over his chest. Had he been laying down, he would have resembled a mummy in a sarcophagus. The teenagers began to back up, but another look from Nny and they froze.

"You can't leave yet. You see, I've been feeling so happy tonight. You rudely took that happiness away. Now I'd like to get it back. Why don't we have some fun now, hmm?" A wider smile, and he advanced, stalking his prey.

And then a pool of crimson was flooding the ground. One of the teenagers stumbled back, staring dumbly at the huge tear in the front of his shirt. More crimson, and he slowly sank to the ground. The others screamed, but couldn't move with their feet nailed to the pavement by shuriken.

A flurry of slashing, and three more fell. Nny was covered in blood now, but those dead eyes hadn't blinked once. He whipped out a pair of ice picks, jamming them into another kid's ears. The resulting cracks and spillings of brainmeats didn't seem to faze him, though the remaining irritants were rapidly losing their sanity.

"Oh, God, please n-" The unfortunate received a machete to the mouth that went through the back of her head and into the skull of the kid behind her.

And then there were two. Nny circled his last victim, eyes unfocused. He blinked, then grinned insanely, eyes clear again.

"Remember, kids, you can't spell 'manslaughter' without 'laughter!'"

He cackled and drove his dagger through the leader's head.

"Thank you for that bit of entertainment," he laughed, giving a bow to his recently deceased audience. "I feel so much better now."

And humming Ode to Joy, he continued on his way.

Just beyond where the bodies lay, a woman shakily dialed a number at a payphone.

"Nice look, Nny. I like the color scheme."

Annette smiled wryly and gestured to the still-blood-covered Nny. He looked down, shrugged, and continued eating. Most of the stuff had dried already, leaving his face streaked with what looked like rust-colored war paint. Still, there were a few new patches of red from the store clerk he had disagreed with earlier that morning.

"You're eating. That's good."

"I haven't for a week or two. I was starting to feel it."

"Wonderful. I think I'm going to skool with Squee again today."

"Alright. Whatever you want to do."

"You're not very social today."

"Am I ever?"

"I mean you're really quite hostile."

"Well, I apologize. I haven't slept in a month and it's beginning to get to me."

Annette was silent, looking down at her bowl of cereal. He hadn't asked her yet. She wasn't even sure what day it was, but she knew it was getting close. And somehow it seemed wrong to let it pass without comment or recognition.

"What day is it, Nny?" she finally asked in her quiet, thickly accented English.

"How would I know?"

"Do you know what the date is?"

"Sometime in late January, I think. The twenty-something."

"Oh."

It was on the third of February. Her mother had always celebrated it on the thirteenth, though, because of the baptism. She still had time.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready to leave?"

"Oh, yes, of course." Annette gave a small smile and stood up, not bothering to clear her dishes away. Nny would take care of that if he felt like it. If not, then she could get it when she returned.

A new pair of black jeans replaced the silk pajama pants, and she swiftly attached the matching chains to the appropriate loops like a pro. Annette found a lovely little shirt with the words "Just Because I'm Psychotic, it Doesn't Mean I have _Mental_ Problems" and a little picture of a deranged-looking manga girl gracing the front of it. She threw it on under her trench coat and dug around for her Doc Martens. Not leaving the house for long periods of time tended to get things like that misplaced.

Nny was staring off into space when she reentered the kitchen. Annette smiled, finally located her shoes under the table, and turned to leave.

"When is your birthday, Annette?"

The sudden question stopped her. "Eh...Mon anniversaire est le third of February. Why?"

"Just wondering. You can leave now."

"Okay. Salut, Nny."

No answer. Annette shrugged and left the house, being careful not to lock the door behind her. She didn't have a key, and there was no telling if her guardian would be home when she returned. Besides, it wasn't like any sane person would actually _attempt_ entry into that house, anyway.

Good thing Annette wasn't sane.

Squee was waiting for her. His mother muttered something unintelligible out the window and threw an empty bottle of pills at the girl, but other than that the trip was rather uneventful. Jack and Sally were deposited in the passenger seat before their owner scrambled in next to them. They were at the skool in record time.

"Oh! Bonjour, Annette! Nice to have you back again!" Mme DeFleur gave Annette a wide smile when she walked into the room.

"Bonjour, Madame," was the quiet reply.

Annette fastened a few pins onto her shirt, (the anarchy symbol, "I don't have a license to kill, but I DO have a learner's permit," "Leave me Alone," and "Be All You Can't Be") her gaze roving around the now-familiar room. There was a woman sitting in the corner, bespectacled eyes fastened on her from beneath a wispy curtain of brown hair. The woman motioned for her to come over, and after a slight hesitation, she did.

"Hello, dear," the woman greeted her with a smile as wide as it was fake. "What's your name?"

"Je m'appelle Annette, Madame."

"I heard that your name was Antoinette."

"Oui, but j'aime Annette."

"You live with someone called Johnny C., correct?"

Blank stare.

"Otherwise known as Nny."

"Oh, oui. Why?"

"Well, I'm supposed to be checking up on you, Annette. Making sure you're happy, that sort of thing. It's my job."

"And what job would that be?"

"They told me you would be speaking French. Why the sudden change?"

"I am staying with an American, Madame. I should have picked something up by now." Annette was beginning to distrust this woman. She was too sugary. "And what job do you hold that would require you to pry into my personal affairs?"

"I'm sorry if I'm offending you, honey, but I work with the state, and they want to make sure you're happy. We _all_ want to make sure that you're happy. It's just that we care, sweetie."

"My name is Annette."

The woman wrote something down on the clipboard she carried. It didn't look good, even though Annette couldn't read it. Another smile, and the social worker tried again.

"When's your birthday, Annette?"

"Why do you need to know?"

"I just want to verify some information we have on you."

The paper with her "information" on it was completely blank. Annette was feeling more suspicious than ever. Her eyes narrowed to slits, and she clutched Jack and Sally for dear life.

"Mon anniversaire est le trois fevrier."

Another note, this time on the blank page. "And you're eight years old?"

"Oui."

"Okay, Annette. Oh, what an..._interesting_ doll you have there..."

"Elle s'appelle Sally." Annette pointed to the first doll, then the other. "Et il s'appelle Jack."

"L-lovely. Where did you get them?"

"Hot Topic."

"Did someone buy them-"

"Nny."

"I thought so." More notes. "Does he take you there often? I see that your...style seems to reflect a darker tone than a girl your age should be wearing."

"Oui, Madame. J'adore noir. J'adore Hot Topic."

Even more notes. The woman seemed to be taking down everything Annette was saying and more. This was quite annoying. Everything the girl said or did was recorded as if this were an interrogation before a trial. And the woman was treating her like a _child_ on top of it all. _I am NOT a child!_ she thought angrily.

"Annette?"

_"What?"_

"I was asking you if you were happy at home."

"Of _course _I'm happy! Why shouldn't I be?"

"Well, your neighbors have been questioned, and they seem to agree that your...guardian is prone to violence."

"Well, yeah, but only when people piss him off. He'd never hurt me, though, because the first thing he did was teach me how to defend myself. He couldn't kill me even if he tried."

"I wasn't going to go so far, dear, but now that you've brought it up, _does_ he kill people?"

"Only the bad ones. I can hear them screaming sometimes at night. And he can get very quiet sometimes and he leaves at all hours of the day and night. I go with him sometimes. Usually he just roams the streets. Every now and then I'll have to wait for him at the next corner while he takes care of somebody that was bad."

The woman's face had steadily paled throughout Annette's monologue. She suddenly gave a little squeak, and the girl paused.

"Yes, Madame?"

"That-that's enough, dear. You're _sure_ he doesn't get violent with you? He doesn't yell or punish you at all?"

"Not really. He used to, back when I first came, but I think he just wasn't used to me yet. He'd only yell, though. Then I'd lock myself in a room and he'd calm down. But he's very nice now."

"And you said he leaves you alone?"

"Yes, he goes out all the time. Mostly just to walk, but I usually have to do things for myself. Why is it that you want to know so much about Nny?"

"Er, because we want to make sure that he's fit to be taking care of you."

"I'd much rather have you leave me alone. I'm perfectly content. You have no reason to be alarmed."

"You don't care at _all _that he kills people?" The woman's eyes were very wide.

"Why should I? They're just the bad people. The world is much better off without so many irritants skulking around."

"But-he _kills_ them!"

"Yes. And? I would like to kill people sometimes. I don't though, because more than likely Nny will get to them before I could."

"I think I've heard enough. You can go back to your little friend now."

"You disgust me. Goodbye. And don't be surprised if someone comes to visit you soon. I think you'll be on our list."

Annette slipped away and went back to Squee's desk. The teenager regarded her with a curious stare, but he didn't ask her to tell him what had gone on during her exchange with the social worker. Instead, he handed her a pen and told her to go write in her diary.

So she did.

_Dear Diary,_

_I hate social workers. They disgust me. This one, a woman who looked more plastic than anything, treated me like I was a child. I hate it when adults are so high and mighty about their age and the elevated status that they feel it gives them. My Lord, I wish I could just knock them right off that pedestal. _

_Ah well. Perhaps another time. I could always ask Nny to take care of her for me, but there is just something therapeutic in getting revenge by oneself, is there not? And anyway, what fun would THAT be?_

_I'm getting worried, though. That woman was awfully nosey about my home life. She seemed overly focused on Nny. I hope that she won't do anything stupid._

_I'm worrying for nothing, more than likely. Perhaps I'm just imagining things. That social worker really MIGHT have just been concerned about my well-being._

_Yes, of course. And I'm really a three-eyed alien from Neptune._

_I suppose I'll just have to wait and see what happens. Whatever comes, I'll be ready for it. I hope._

_Antoinette _

Author's note: There's something missing here...Oh, wait. I know what it is. There is little to no cursing in this thing. Goddess, there should be profanities on every page, if not every _paragraph!_ Except I'm not very comfortable with that kind of thing yet. I'm perfectly content to just say stuff like "he cursed under his breath" and the like. We'll save the hard-core stuff for a later date, perhaps the next fic.

At any rate, I promise to wrap this up soon. Relatively soon. I know where the thing's going, at least. So this is probably only going to be three or four chapters. YES! Goddess, I loathe chapters. They take too much work to update and load and merde like that. But I'll be done soon! I hope.

Little Annette's been with Nny for like five months or something. I'm not even bothering to figure it out. It is WAY too late to try to attempt to make the effort to do a math problem. Confused? Because I have no idea what that thing about math was getting at...What the hell am I doing, anyway? I'm not coherent no more. I should be sleeping. Damn. It's not even midnight yet. Well, I had like six hours of sleep last night and the whole freaking week had had an average of about five hours a night, so maybe that's what's up. And I was out shopping all day and attending me little bro's birthday party-dammit I can't spell today it's taking me ten minutes to write this paragraph and Goddess I am so damned tired. But spending the day with four hyperactive boys at the Mall of America gets SO tiring.

But why should you care, anyway? I mean, you don't know me, probably, you have no idea where I am-well, maybe you know THAT, but whatever-and you couldn't care less about my fatigue. You just wanna keep reading. Well, this is me very own version of the "Sleep Deprived Introduction" so there. Jhonen is awesome. Goddess, I am so tired. I can't type. So hard to focus on keys enough to tap at them to form words. Wheeeeeeeeee............Umm....what was I talking about, anyway?

Oh, yeah. Annette is getting used to Nny, and Nny's getting used to her. Life is...well, it's probably not _good_, but it IS life. And now there's some stupid social worker messing with the kid's mind. Poor girl, being led so far astray. Why should ANNETTE care if Nny kills people? She's EIGHT. Give her a break, lady! Oh, wow. I'm yelling at my own characters. I think I have to go to sleep soon...

GYAH!!! MUST-GET-CAFFEINATED-BEVERAGE!!! NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! PARENTAL UNITS TOO CLOSE TO THE REFRIGERATOR TO GET LIFE-SUSTAINING DRINK!!! So...weak...Dude. What the hell am I doing? I'm screaming over not having any soda. Screw this. I gotta go find me some sugar packets.

O...KAY. I can't find any sugar, which is weird, since I had about three dozen of them that I stole from the cafeteria in my room, but whatever. I seem to be relatively coherent now. What was I talking about? Um, yeah, so this social worker keeps talking to Annette. That lady sucks. I really ought to have Nny pay her a visit.

Um, and I think I'll put everybody back in here near the end. Pepito should show up before then, though. I like Pepito. I drew a picture of him in English on Friday. I was slightly disturbed, since he's the antichrist and these kids I talk to were having this long conversation about religion in the back of the room. Damn. I'm getting off-subject again.

My Goddess, I'm so tired. I think I'll go back to telling that insane story now. Maybe it'll make me less tired or something.

Okay, take two. I'm much better now, having had a night's sleep and large amounts of sugar-loaded substances. I don't have much to add other than Annette's gonna go through a lot more trauma before this thing's over with. Wow. I wasted like a page and a half talking about how damned tired I was. Goddess, I'm an idiot. A genius idiot, but still. Whoo hoo! Paradoxes can be fun! Er, anyway, back to the fun!

Squee hated that woman. Miss Tree was her name, and she was a social worker. She'd terrorized him as a little kid, and now she was after Annette. He remembered how she'd come to his door the night before...

"Excuse me, Todd, but if you have the time, I'd like to ask you a few questions."

"I don't have time for this."

"Oh, but I'll only be a few minutes. I heard that there was a little girl living in that house, 777."

"Yeah, her name's Antoinette. Why?" Anyone asking about Annette was suspicious in Squee's book.

"Well, I've also heard tell that the other occupant of the house may not be the best guardian for her. I'm sorry to be so blunt, but it's important that I get to the bottom of this as quickly as possible." Miss Tree seemed unfazed by the teenager's manner; in fact, a small smirk was playing about the corners of her mouth.

"Johnny is a perfectly good guardian. if anybody tried to touch the kid, he'd rip out their eyes with a spork. Hell, he's probably the best person she could possibly have looking out for her."

"Are you just exaggerating?"

"Not really. I've seen him do that before."

"Oh. Well, then. Can you arrange for Antoinette to come to your skool tomorrow so I can have a little chat with her?"

"No."

"Oh, but you _will._ That is, if you are interested in staying out of that asylum, you will. Good evening, Todd, dear."

Squee shivered. She was just as horrible as he remembered.


	4. Annette's dream, weird stuff, killing, a...

Annette opened the door-at least, she opened it the rest of the way. It had been left partway open. Most unlike Nny, but then he wasn't exactly a predictable individual, so she wasn't too worried.

But the screaming coming from the general direction of the basement was a little alarming. It was Nny screaming. That was not good.

"I TOLD YOU ALREADY, EFF! I AM NOT GOING TO KILL HER! STOP TALKING TO ME! I HATE YOU! GO AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE! NO, I AM NOT GOING TO KILL MYSELF! I DON'T CARE HOW BAD EVERYTHING IS! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"

This outburst was followed by indistinct screams and thuds. Nny was stabbing something. Annette ventured closer to the basement door, carefully opening it just enough to slip through. More screams and thuds, followed by a loud crack as something gave way.

She made it down the first set of steps, and another door was ajar. She entered the room to find Nny curled up on the ground, sobbing. The two styrofoam dolls that he had called the doughboys were laying in pieces on the broken table near him.

"Leave me alone..." muttered Nny indistinctly, more to himself than anything.

"Er...Nny, are you-"

"What? Where-Annette, leave. NOW." Nny's head snapped up, and despite the tears in his eyes, he looked livid. "Get away from me!"

Annette bit her lip and started to back away. "Well, I don't want to anger you, so maybe I _should_ go..."

"No! Wait!" A wild look came into Nny's eyes, and he clutched at the sides of his head hysterically. "Don't leave me alone with THEM!"

"Okay, Nny, I'll stay right here. The...things won't get you."

_What the hell? I've never seen this before. Nny shouldn't be acting like this. I mean, he's pretty unstable, but TALKING DOLLS? This is just too strange._

"Thanks..."

Nny just sat there for a long time, breathing heavily and with his eyes closed. When he finally looked at her again, all traces of his outburst were gone. He smiled and stood, brushing the remnants of the styrofoam dolls to the ground and crushing them beneath the heels of his boots.

"I'm terribly sorry for my...outburst, Annette. Just a moment of weakness on my part. I'm fine now, I assure you."

"That's good. I was slightly afraid for a moment."

"I'm going out. Care to join me?"

"I suppose so. Where are we going?"

"I'm not entirely sure. A cafe, maybe. Somewhere with a lot of people."

"Why? I thought you hated-"

She stopped. There was a dangerous look in Nny's eyes that scared her speechless. Instead, she followed him back upstairs and out the door. Nny didn't bother to pause to even take his trench coat, so Annette fetched it for him and hurried after him.

"Take your coat, Nny. It's cold." She held the thing out to him, and he reluctantly took it and put it on.

"Yes, well, I'm not complaining," he muttered. "Now be quiet. I need to think."

So Annette remained silent for awhile and contented herself with watching the people go by. Many of them were dressed in predominantly black clothes and safety pins. They gave Nny and her a nasty smirk as they passed. It took Nny only a moment to make examples out of a few of them.

Then there were the preps. They passed in a flock, cheerleaders and their boyfriends chattering like geese. They gave Nny a withering look and smiled at Annette. She quickly took his knife hand to prevent any more bloodshed, and they kept going.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Annette was startled to find Nny turning into one of the cafes that lined the street. She quickly made an about-face and hurried in just before the door closed on her.

The kid at the register smirked, giving Nny the once-over. Clearly he wasn't up to par with the rest of the customers. This caused Nny to hesitate for a moment, returning the stare. Annette began to get very worried.

"Well, Annette, you may not want to stay in here for this. Go ahead and wait outside, will you?" Nny smiled evilly and began to rummage around in his ever-present messenger bag.

Annette nodded and hurried off, but she stopped and hid under a table near the door and out of sight. She was morbidly curious as to what would happen next.

Nny carefully removed a long dagger from its sheath and smiled at its perfectly polished surface. There was a small pause, and he stood on a chair in the middle of the cafe.

"Your attention, please," he called almost joyfully, fingering the dagger in anticipation. "I am presently unsure as to who among you have fed my growing distaste for mankind and who has not. You'll be glad to know that a small detail like that will not prevent me from sharing this with you_ all_ tonight. Let the fun begin."

Annette looked on in horror as Nny proceeded to brutally massacre everything that looked alive. Blood flew everywhere in a constant rain, drenching everything and everyone. Annette felt a light sprinkling of something and was terrified to see a fine layer of red dusting her hand. She shut her eyes and tried to block out the sounds, but it was impossible. The screams just cut through her head, splitting her sanity into a thousand little shards.

-Due to the immense violence of this scene, a portion of it has been omitted. (This also serves to keep it to a PG-13 rating. ;;) Anyway, we present to you this infinitely cuter scene about a little boy and his pet anteater:

Billy: Hi, there, Annie! You're such a good girl! Fetch, Annie!

Anteater: growls

Billy: Annie, what are you-

bloodcurdling scream sound of ripping flesh

Billy's Mother: BILLY!!! OH, DEAR GOD, GET AWAY FROM MY SON!!! BIL-

more screaming bloodspray bones cracking into pieces gurgle

CRUNCH

The end. And now back to your regularly scheduled program.

And then it was over. Nny calmly sat down on the crimson-coated ground and replaced his tools one by one, cleaning them on the shirts of whatever victim was nearby. It was as if nothing had happened. Well, that is, if you completely disregarded everything in the immediate vicinity. Annette slowly came out from her hiding-place, skirting around a severed hand and something that looked like it should have been inside of somebody's body. Nny looked up and was rather shocked to see her pale face.

"What did you do?" she asked hoarsely, barely comprehending what had just happened.

"They were annoying. I was just cleaning up the filth." Nny's brow furrowed. "Are you okay?"

Annette's response was to crumple to the ground in a dead faint.

Nny swore loudly. "Dammit! _Now_ what am I going to do?"

When Annette woke again, she was back in her room. She looked around the darkened area by the bed and screamed.

"Could you please stop that?" Nny was reading by candle-light, and he glanced up from his book, annoyed. "It's giving me a headache."

"Get away from me!" Annette threw off the covers and scrambled into the corner.

"Why are you being so spastic today?"

Annette just screamed again and retreated farther into the corner. Nny sighed and closed his book, anticipating a long, _long_ day.

"Annette, look. Those people back there were all irritants, the scum of the planet. They look down on others because of the way they dress and how they look. They all deserved some punishment."

"But not THAT!" She began screaming again in rapid French. " There was a little kid in there! What did he do to you? And that old woman! Now they're dead! All because of you and your insane ideas of humanity! "

"I didn't kill the kid. He ran out screaming before I got to him."

Annette didn't even pause to think of how Nny had understood her ranting. She went right on screaming and crying, letting out every bit of trauma she'd experienced those last five months.

" And what is _up_ with you taking me along to witness a mass killing, huh? I'm _eight years old!_ Kids my age shouldn't even know the _meaning_ of the word massacre! What the hell is _wrong_ with you? "

Nny just sat there and remained silent throughout the rest of Annette's rant. He kept his gaze focused on her, listening to every word she said, and figured out that there was something else amiss besides the whole bit about her being pissed as hell. There was a cog slipping in her brain.

"Annette, are you okay?" he asked again when she had finally stopped screaming.

"Yes, of course. I'm _fine,_ Nny. How lovely of you to ask! I just watched a massacre! I'm _perfectly_ okay!"

"No, I mean, are you _okay._"

"No, Nny, I am most certainly _not _okay."

"Well, that's not good."

Annette stared at him, flabbergasted. "That is _truly_ the understatement of the millennium."

"Do you need to talk about something? Because I've heard that getting things off of your chest can really help to correct those pesky mental illnesses like insanity. Never worked for _me,_ but then, I'm a lost cause. So really, what's bothering you?"

"You. Are. A. Homicidal. Maniac."

"And?"

"And you are taking care of an eight year old girl."

"Yes, we seem to have gotten past that stage. Now why are you so upset?"

Dead silence.

"Annette?"

"Have you been listening to a _WORD_ I've said? I already _told_ you why I'm so upset! Mon Dieu, you are an idiot!"

"You mean you're upset because of the whole killing thing? Why would you be? Look, I'm sorry if I scared you, but I really can't see the problem."

"You mean...it doesn't _bother_ you that you kill people?"

"Not really. They're scum, anyway."

"Not _everyone_ is scum, though. Supposing you accidentally killed a good person?"

"Are you referring to your mother?"

"...Yes."

"She was annoying and possibly psychotic."

"So you killed her. Wonderful. I'd love to be able to solve my problems as easily as you can."

"You're calmer now."

"Yes, and?"

"And a lot more snappish. Would you like something to eat?"

"What the-oh, d'accord. Whatever. I just don't care anymore." Annette threw her hands up and laughed hysterically. "I'll just voluntarily relinquish hold on my sanity. After all, looks like that's what _you_ did, and it's working out _just_ fine for you, eh?"

"I'm thinking pizza would be good. What do you think?"

"Sure. Pizza's bien." _Mon Dieu, an eight-year old should NOT have to go through this..._

Annette watched Nny get up and leave the room, marveling at how he was able to change topics so efficiently. That, and how he had been totally unfazed by the whole killing people thing. Oh, and how he didn't seem to realize that Annette was going insane.

The food came an hour later. Nny refrained from killing the delivery kid again, though Annette could tell he _really_ wanted to. They ate on the roof again, but this time Nny had nothing to rant about. It was strangely silent that day.

And Annette found herself awhile later back in her room, writing in her journal. Jack and Sally sat propped up beside her, and she scribbled furiously with her pen, hoping that the ink wouldn't run out before she finished.

_ Dear Diary,_

_Today, I learned that there is something genuinely wrong with the man I call Nny. He killed dozens of people in a cafe and shrugged it off like it was nothing. I cannot fathom what happened to make him that way, but I do know that it must have been horrible. _

_Even so, Nny seems to be in a relatively good mood now. he was shouting at a pair of styrofoam dolls earlier. Now he isn't hysterical anymore, and I think this is the closest to sane I've ever seen him. That scares me, as it was only just now that he has finally admitted to the whole murdering thing._

_But what can I do? I really have nowhere else to go. Unless Squee wants to take me in, that is, and that's laughable. I suppose I'll just have to make do..._

_Mon Dieu. I'm living under the same roof as a homicidal maniac. This will certainly warrant a lot of therapy when I'm older._

_Antoinette _

The phone rang. A paint splattered hand picked it up. There was a very familiar voice at the other end.

"Devi? I need help."

"No kidding."

"No, this time I'm serious. Er, how to start? Well, Annette has recently informed me that her birthday is fast approaching. I'm...unsure of how to handle it. She will be turning nine, if memory serves."

"Yeah, and?"

"Well, what do you do when it's a child's birthday?"

"Nny, you really are an idiot." Devi sighed. "You act nice, give her presents, and throw a party."

"A party? With..._people?"_

"Well, that's generally what a social event like a party entails."

"Oh."

Dead silence.

"Nny, why the sudden quiet? Don't think you can handle a party?"

"The gift thing is no problem, and I think I'd be able to behave nicely, but..."

"What?"

"...I...don't...like people..."

"Oh, for God's sake. Just invite the people Annette knows. It'll be a small party."

"Invite people that she knows? You mean you and me and Raven and Tenna and Squee and Pepito?"

"God, what do you _do,_ keep her in _solitary confinement?"_

More silence.

Devi gave a strangled sounding scream. "Whatever. Just-call me tomorrow or something, okay? I'm working."

"You're always working."

"Yeah, well, my life is my work. I'll try to make time to come to Annette's party, though. Now I _really_ have to go work. The paint is starting to dry."

"Fine. Goodbye, Devi. And thank you."

"Bye."

Devi hung up and breathed a sigh of relief. This new, more timid Nny was almost as bad as the old, completely psychotic one. He was like a dog now, completely intimidated by everyone and everything. Except when he killed, but that was different. Maybe this was the _real _Nny. In that case, Devi would have to kick herself to have ever liked him.

She shook her head to dispel the thoughts and picked up her brush. The strong-smelling paint had already started to become thick and hard, drying on the stiff bristles of the tool. She swore and gave the thing a quick rinse before continuing.

Her painting was something the likes of which she had never done before. It was a person, a _real_ person. She hadn't even decently warped the image so that it resembled a monster. No, this was almost a portrait. The face wasn't filled in yet, but Devi could already tell that it was a child, female most likely. The hair was long, black, and set in something that could barely be called loose braids for the amount of it that had come undone.

All around her were knives, most bloody and some of them shattered. Her black clothing was completely unmarred with crimson, though she clutched a blood-covered pair of dolls. The whole canvas was underlaid with a gray kind of hue that made everything on it stand out sharply in contrast with the dull background. All in all, it was very good.

And Devi stared at the canvas for a long time before finally taking the smallest of her brushes and beginning to create the face. Huge violet eyes slowly came into being, and a small, scared smile graced the child's rather sharp features. Devi put down the brush and stared into the face of Annette.

"Oh, God," she murmured, followed by a quiet, bewildered string of expletives. "That poor kid..."

That "poor kid" in question was presently sound asleep, her dreams thankfully untroubled by the images she saw every day. She'd even helped Nny clean out one of the rooms in the basement, and that had nearly made her faint. It was a wonder that she hadn't woken up screaming yet.

Oh, well. The night was still young, and there was plenty of time for nightmares. In fact, Annette's dream of painting was starting to turn foul on her.

_Painting, painting, painting. Annette sang cheerfully, mixing paints to get just the right shade of red. She smiled and dipped her brush into the bucket-_

_Blood. It was blood that she was painting with. Annette screamed, but when she dropped the brush, some of the blood splashed up and hit her in the face. it refused to wipe off. She scrubbed frantically with the hem of her shirt, but she was horrified to discover that her clothes were soaked with crimson as well._

_Every jar was blood. Blue, green, gray, brown, yellow, orange, purple, EVERYTHING was blood. Annette screamed again and tried to throw the jars off of the table, but they were fastened to the wood with knives._

_"Annette, stop screaming. I thought you loved painting." Nny was sitting near the wall, and he was painting it with the blood._

_She ran, but the door was locked. Another moment, and more blood coated her hands. One more scream, and the girl turned back to Nny._

_Suddenly, she was very calm. She took her seat and began painting, all of her revulsion washing away. The strokes were beautiful, more vibrant than anything she had ever seen before._

_"That's because blood is life," Nny explained as though he had heard her thoughts._

_Blood is life. Annette painted with life, marveling at the rich colors and the wondrous images they made. The more she used, the more blood covered her clothes and skin. She didn't care, just went on painting. Nny was smiling when she finally looked up._

_"Good to see you've finally figured it out," was all he said._

_And then Annette woke up._

She gasped for air. Her heart raced, the life pulsing in her veins. Sitting straight up in her bed, Annette stared blearily around her, looking for any fragments of her dream that had managed to get through to reality.

After all, according to what she'd seen and heard, _anything_ was possible.

Nothing was there. The girl was almost disappointed at this knowledge. It would have been terrifying, sure, but incredible to see a figment of her imagination come to life. But all she could see was the walls filled with her and Nny's paintings and sketches, the cluttered floor, and the boxes that served as her dresser.

It was light out. Annette wasn't sure exactly what time it was, but the amount of sunlight coming in from the hallway pointed to about ten am or so. She got up, threw on a black robe, and ventured out of the room for breakfast.

Nny was sleeping. Silent, yes, but his eyes were closed and he failed to stir even when Annette shook him. Light, even breathing was the only sound in the house. Annette decided it was best to let the insomniac rest and made her way to the kitchen.

There wasn't much to eat. Annette searched the cupboards and came up with an almost-empty box of cereal and a few slices of stale bread. She shrugged, ate what she could, and began to make a shopping list on a scrap of paper.

Suddenly, there was something behind her. Annette turned slowly to see Nny crouched a few feet away, holding a dagger. He smiled and resheathed the weapon when he recognized the child.

"Oh, hello. Sorry about that. I get a little skittish after I wake up...Are you okay? Why were you sneaking around in here? It's your kitchen, too."

"I wasn't. I was just getting breakfast. We don't have much food." Annette's slight trembling was immediately perceived by her guardian, and he gave an apologetic grin.

"Well, again, sorry, but you shouldn't ever be scared of that. I'd never hurt you. You know that." A small flash of something darted across his features, and Nny turned toward the door.

"What?"

"We should really get out more. Go somewhere. Want to go to the mall?"

"Um, d'accord, but shouldn't we go get food first?"

"You let me worry about that. I'll take you to Hot Topic, alright? Raven and Tenna can look after you while I get food."

"Er...d'accord...." _He's going to do WHAT now?_

"That's great. Come on, go and get dressed. We're leaving in ten minutes."

Annette nodded and scampered off to her room. She threw on a shirt, (black with "Cute but psycho- things even out" in blue on the front) a random pair of jeans, and as many chains as she could find. Four buttons ("Make the Stupid People Shut Up," "I Support Heavy Metal," "You Nonconformists are all Alike," and "Procrastinators Unite Tomorrow") were hastily pinned to her shirt, and she pulled on a pair of socks as fast as possible. Then it was into her trench coat and combat boots and out the door.

Author's Note: Ya know, I didn't think id be updating so soon. But thanks so the kind words of...certain people, I have decided to try to put up the last chapter in this fic in a few days. Whether I'll be ABLE to do so is unclear, but I'm trying, people!

So Annette's had a pretty scary dream, eh? Will that mean she's finally snapped? I don't know, humans! STOP YELLING AT ME! No, really, I have no idea what that meant. I'm just going to run with it and see what happens. And Nny is sort of timid now, I suppose. Not sure what that means, either, but maybe Annette's influence is making him more stable or something...

Well, anyway, enjoy, humans. This Neptunian must hurry and write more now... So sayonara for now!

-Raven


	5. The End of the World! Annette's Birthda...

Annette stood in Hot Topic a bit later, shyly staring at the customers and the cashiers. Raven was cursing under her breath, and Tenna had her little doll, Spooky, out and was zooming around, making airplane noises. It made for an odd picture.

"So, Annette, uh, how are you?" Raven queried awhile later, giving her best non-threatening smile.

"Bien, merci. Et toi?"

"Um, I'm okay. So Nny just left you here?"

"Yes..."

"God, he has to work on his parental skills. When's he going to be back?"

"I'm not sure. Whenever he finishes getting food."

"That can take _hours._ Come on, kid, let me show you how to price things. You know how to read, right?"

"Numbers are the same in English as in French."

"Okay, great. Let's go back here..."

An hour later, there was a number of large boxes of merchandise ready to be put on the shelves. Annette sat in the corner of the back room, listening to Linkin Park and putting labels on even more items. Raven had to come and drag her out of the room so that she could help set out stuff.

Nny appeared so suddenly that Raven turned and nearly collided with him. A knife was instantly at her throat, but Nny put the blade away when he saw who it was that had run into him.

"Oh, hello. Is Annette alright? I hope she wasn't too much of a trouble."

"No, she was great. I had her pricing things to keep her busy...Do you _always_ do that to people? The knife thing?"

"Well, people make me a bit skittish. It impairs my judgment..." He trailed off and looked around for Annette.

"Salut, Nny. Ca va?" Annette popped up in front of the two and smiled even as Nny started to pull out his dagger.

"Oh. Ca va bien, merci. Et toi?"

"Bien, merci. How did shopping go?"

"Rather well. Only a few corpses."

"That's good. Did you get everything on the list?"

"Yes, but why did you want _chopsticks?"_

"I like them, and it's fun to eat ramen with them."

"Oh. Annette, why don't you go digging through the buttons?"

"Oui, Nny!" Annette gave a happy squeal and darted off.

Raven gave Nny a suspicious look. "So what was that all about?"

"What?"

"Leaving Annette here for an hour and a half."

"Oh, well, I didn't want her to get in the way should something irritate me. Now on to other matters. Annette's birthday is in a week or so. I need help planning a get-together in celebration."

"Dude. You planning parties? God, this scares me. But what did you have in mind? It's Annette we're talking about here. I want to make sure you're not going to traumatize her even more." Another suspicious glare.

"I'm not sure. I've never done this before. What _normally_ happens at parties?"

"Um...People eat food, wander around, talk, and give presents to the birthday kid. At least that's what always happened at _my_ birthday parties. Didn't you ever have them when you were a kid?"

A long silence. "I have a dysfunctional memory."

"Hmm. Sucks for you. Well, uh, yeah. Get a lot of food, invite people, and tell them to bring gifts for Annette. What does she like, anyway?"

Nny thought for a time. "Drawing, painting, the color black, Emily the Strange, writing, and...that's all I can think of."

"O..._kay._" Raven shook her head. "Whatever. You should probably get back to the kid. She was a little scared when you just dropped her off at the entrance, you know. She's just a little kid. Don't forget that."

"Raven!" It was Tenna. "Annette's climbing on the displays again!"

Raven sighed and turned to manage the damage. "Annette, come down! That shirt is right here! Let me see if it fits you!"

Nny watched the rescue attempt for awhile before turning away and scanning the shelves. What _would_ Annette like for her birthday?

Soon, Annette was ready to leave, her curiosity and her huger for strange stuff satisfied. Nny paid for the items she'd picked out and left, closely followed by the now-hyperactive Annette.

Later, the pair reentered Nny's house to complete darkness. Nny must have neglected to pay the electric bill again. He lit a few candles and led the way to Annette's room, where there were many more candles and some matches.

"Use these to light the room. Blow them out if you're tired. And for God's sake, DON'T LET ANYTHING ELSE CATCH FIRE. I'll be downstairs. Night, Annette."

"Goodnight."

Annette watched Nny leave with the second candle, wondering in what place in his deranged mind Nny found it alright to leave a small child alone with matches. At any rate, she was alone. A quick strike of a match, and another candle lit up, bathing her area of the room in a dull yellow glow. She hummed to herself as she placed more candles around her room until she had achieved a lovely warm luminescence.

" Now what to do? " she wondered out loud, wandering around the small space and looking for something to occupy her time.

Nothing presented itself, so Annette turned on her CD player-thank God Nny had remembered to get batteries-and put on her new favorite CD, Rasputina's _Frustration Plantation._ The sweetly dark sounds of cellos filled the air like the wisps of smoke from the many candles, twisting upward and gently making their way through Annette's soul. A moment later, she was caught up in a song, doing a strange, swaying dance in time to the music.

And then there was a loud noise from the basement that sounded like something had been shot. Not a gunshot, but more like a crossbow. Annette snapped out of her trance and hurried to the basement door, only pausing to blow out all but one of the candles. This she took with her, the flame sputtering at the top of the wax in her shaking hands. There were more noises, and Annette opened the door.

"Annette!" came a distant call. "I need some help here!"

"What happened? Are you hurt?" For a brief moment, Annette wished that Nny _had_ injured himself, that maybe the wound was even fatal. Then she could go live with...oh, she didn't know, Squee, maybe. Get out of this hellhole.

Then the thought passed, and Annette's breath quickened. Perhaps he _had_ gotten hurt. And like it or not, he was her guardian. That would be bad. Annette might have to go live in a foster home somewhere, and she'd heard _horror_ stories...And besides that, there _were_ a few redeemable qualities in the man. Not many, sure, but it would still be a shame to have him dead.

It took a second for Annette to realize that Nny had gone on talking.

"What?" she shouted, trying to pay attention.

"I said I'm fine! Some of the..._guests_ escaped! I'm going to need help rounding them up!"

"Oh. Alright! What do you want me to do?"

"Grab a weapon or something from the first room on the left and try to track them down! I've already gotten six of them. Hurry! They might try to destroy something! That would not be good."

"So I can assume..." muttered the girl, skipping lightly down the steps.

The room indicated was full of an array of diverse and versatile weaponry. Annette's eyes widened in awe of the dozens of shiny objects. She wandered around the racks and shelves, lost in the brilliance of it all.

Eventually, a large chorus of screams snapped her out of her daydream. She quickly picked up some daggers and a pouch of these little sharp things that looked like they'd be good to throw at people's feet. A glance around at the rest of the weapons, and she darted out of the room.

Where she ran into a very emaciated person that might have been female. The thing lashed out at her wickedly, rasping at Annette in a strange, inhuman manner. Annette shuddered to see that the woman's tongue was missing. Another lunge of the thing's ragged nails, and Annette retaliated with the dagger. A spray of scarlet, and the woman fell.

Annette just stood stock-still in front of it, staring at the red on her hands. The feeling of revulsion passed quickly, replaced by a strange fascination, but the lingering threads of terror still gripped her in a tenuous, yes, but still perceptible stranglehold.

But then there was another shriek, and Annette followed the sound to something that could have been male, which was running into walls repeatedly. A few of the sharp thingies slowed him down enough so that he finally cracked his head on a corner and was silent.

The stairs went down seemingly forever. Annette stopped to catch her breath, increasingly aware of the volume of sheer noise coming from all around her. Fear gained a firmer hold on the girl, and she took in deep, shuddering gasps of air. Another moment, however, and she was forced to go on. That, or face the terror head-on in that cramped stairwell.

A few minutes-eternity to a terrified child-later, Annette came upon Nny. He was impaling three creatures on a long spear, all of which were screaming obscenities at him. Annette gave a small squeak of fright, and Nny turned.

"Oh, hello, Annette. How are you? How many of them did you track down?"

"Um...hi. I'm okay...I found two of them."

"Good. Then they're all accounted for. I already-Annette, are you _sure_ you're alright? You look rather pale..."

Annette trembled and threw out a hand to steady herself. "Y-yes. I'm fine. In fact-" She looked up, and her eyes were blank. "-that was rather exhilarating."

"Good girl," he muttered, pulling out the spear. "Let's go upstairs now, shall we? What happened to your candle, by the way? I thought you would bring one down."

"What? Oh...It must have gone out when I saw the second one. Why was he running into walls like that?"

"That's most likely the one that got his eyes gouged out with a spork a week ago."

Nny started back toward the stairs, and Annette followed. A slight hesitation, and her hand snaked out to grasp Nny's in a death-grip. He seemed surprised, but shrugged and said nothing.

"You're shaking, Annette. Something's wrong."

"J-just frightened a bit. Those people jumped out at me from nowhere..."

And truth be told, that's mostly what it _was._ True, there were some uneasy feelings about hurting people, but it had only been self-defense, so it didn't bother her much. Of course, this was most likely going to lead to intense therapy and repression of memories in a decade or two.

A small smile, and Annette concentrated on matching Nny's stride, a surprisingly difficult task. Though he was a good foot or two taller than the girl, he also walked remarkably fast. This made for a very mind-consuming undertaking indeed.

Upstairs, Annette busied herself with washing her hands and arms and face, getting off whatever blood she could. Nny simply stood there and stared off into space, lost in his own little world. Every now and then she glanced at him, but there was no change.

"Nny, are you alright?"

Nny almost absent-mindedly brought his hand to his mouth, tongue darting out to lap up the blood covering the skin. He paid no attention to Annette, still absorbed in whatever reverie that had captured him. Only when the girl failed to stifle a gasp did he register her presence.

"Sorry, Annette. What did you say?" he quickly dropped his hand to his side again, wiping off the remaining blood on the hem of his shirt.

"I asked if you were alright."

"Oh. yes, of course. I'm fine. If I scared you, my apologies."

This was strange. Nny's mind was definitely on other things. He was barely there, mentally. A glazed look was already returning to his eyes. Nny mumbled to himself, turning away and drifting off toward the living room.

Annette shrugged and looked around the kitchen for something to eat.

And so time passed. Not much time, for Annette's birthday was in the near future. If you didn't know that, you either haven't paid attention or are just REALLY slow. Anyway, the day arrived with barely a disturbance in the cosmos. That was probably a good thing, since a large disturbance could have resulted in something rather important exploding, and that could be bad.

Annette woke up as usual, slightly annoyed at the amount of light that managed to get into the room despite its decided lack of windows. But then she remembered that it was the day. It was her birthday. She sat bolt upright and was flooded with the familiar sense of joy a child feels when they realize that it's their birthday.

And then she remembered who it was that was taking care of her. All the happiness drained right out of her. She flopped back down onto the bed, defeated. Nothing to look forward to here, after all.

There was a shadow across the doorway. Nny quietly stepped into the room, his clothes utterly devoid of anything that looked like blood. Annette sat back up, wary, but he only smiled and held out his hands in the universal "I come in peace" gesture.

"Good morning, Annette. I just thought I'd tell you that I remembered what day it was. Happy birthday."

Annette smiled. "Merci, Nny."

"How are you feeling today?"

"Rather well, thank you."

"Good. That's how a kid should feel on their birthday."

"When's your birthday?"

A small silence. "I don't remember."

"Oh. That's too bad."

"I don't mind. Now, Annette, did you want to do something today? Anything in celebration?"

Annette thought for a long time. "I want to go back to that Japanese restaurant. It was jolie and the people there were nice."

"Alright. Anyone you want to invite along?"

"Not now."

Nny nodded. "Fine. Be ready in half an hour, alright?"

"What time is it?"

"Almost noon."

"Oh. Okay."

Nny left the room, closing the door behind him. Annette jumped up just after the lock clicked and ran to her "dresser." A black shirt with the anarchy symbol stitched onto the front and some random jeans flew on, complemented by several Emily and Zim buttons and a heavy dose of jewelry. Ten minutes later, her hair was tamed and she was putting on her trench coat in the kitchen, waiting for Nny to come upstairs.

When Nny did rise from the depths of the basement, he looked somewhat less terrifying than normal. There was no blood splattered on him, and he was almost friendly-looking. Well, if you could get past the severe emaciation and paleness and insomnia-induced dark rings under the eyes. But other than that, he was good.

The two made their way to the small restaurant, taking their time. It wasn't as if they really had anywhere to be that afternoon. Not as far as Annette knew, anyway.

Miyuki remembered them, something that surprised Nny. Suki and Hiro shouted greetings from the kitchen while their daughter talked to the girl and her guardian.

"So how have things been for you two? Getting along well?"

"Fairly well."

"Nny's nice. I like it here." Annette smiled. "It's my birthday today."

"Really? How wonderful! What can I get you to drink, birthday girl?"

"Cherry coke!"

"Okay, hon. What about you, Nny?"

"Same, I guess."

"Little early for sake, eh?"

"I don't drink often."

"I see. Well, it'll just be a minute. Suki will bring your drinks right out."

"Thank you."

Miyuki gave a small bow and darted off to another table.

An hour and a half later, the two left the restaurant as quietly as they'd come. Miyuki and her family had stopped by to wish Annette a happy birthday, but even their chatter went unnoticed. Nny liked it that way, personally. Less focus meant that it was easier to move about undetected, after all.

Annette refused to stop chattering. Nny let her talk, as it _was_ her birthday, but the constant noise was, nonetheless, incredibly irksome. She went on and on about how nice Miyuki and her parents were and how wonderful the food was and how pretty the restaurant looked. Eventually he was able to tune it all out.

But then they reached the house, and Nny had something to get done.

"Annette, sorry to cut you off, but why don't you go visit Squee for awhile? I have things to do."

Annette fell silent, thoroughly taken aback. She nodded and left, hoping that she wouldn't start crying. That wouldn't be good to cry on her birthday.

Nny scarcely noticed her sadness. He immediately started in on executing his plans, pausing for nothing. Except to get rid of the rather irritating bible saleskid that wouldn't stop ringing the doorbell.

Meanwhile, Annette rang the doorbell, expecting to be met with her quiet, French-speaking friend. Instead, the door opened to reveal a dangerously thin woman who looked as if she was sleepwalking.

"Oh, hello...Who are you, little girl? I didn't think I had a daughter..."

"Um...I'm looking for Squee." Annette shivered but tried very hard to conceal it. "Um, I'm Annette."

"Oh...okay. I don't think Squee lives here anymore, though. Maybe he went to college. Or he died. I'm not sure which."

"Mrs. Casil, don't strain yourself. Squee's here. I'll take the kid. You go take some more pills or something."

The raspy voice of Squee's best friend came from just behind the woman. Annette looked around her to see Pepito standing by the kitchen table, a can of Coke in one hand and a wicked-looking metal spork in the other. This vision caused Annette's breathing to quicken, her heart to pound faster, and for other fear-related things to happen.

"Bonjour, Annette. Ca va?"

"B-bien, m-merci. What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just going to take care of Squee's parents for him, but talking to you will be much more amusing. Nny said you might be coming over."

Pepito grinned evilly and put the spork into his pocket, offering the free hand to the frightened French girl.

"Shall we, Annette?"

What else could she do? She took the hand offered and allowed the Antichrist to lead her upstairs to Squee's room. What was the world coming to? At this rate, Antoinette would be very lucky to get out of life alive.

"Oh, hi, Annette. Nny kick you out?"

Squee's opening statement was very direct. It took Annette by surprise, as she hadn't even stepped fully through the door before it hit her like the proverbial sack of bricks. She stopped, turned her head, and did the only thing she could: she glared and cussed him out.

The rapid-fire French dialogue slammed into Squee, and he took a stumbling step backward. A minute of non-stop screaming, and the girl fell silent, but though Squee only understood about half of what she'd said, he was not stupid enough to be unable of recognizing the fact that the chick was _pissed._

"Oh, okay. I guess he did, then."

"No kidding, Sherlock." Pepito was staring, dumbstruck, at the kid. "Did you even _think_ that something like that could come out of a nine-year-old's mouth? She's pretty pissed, all things considered."

"Yeah. I realized that. Um, Annette, sorry. I didn't mean-"

" Learn to say what you mean, American. "

"Annette, don't let Squee get to you. He was joking. You should be happy. It's your birthday, isn't it?"

Surprisingly, Pepito's attempt at calming her down worked. Annette smiled, nodded, and spoke again. And while it was still French, at least it wasn't sarcastic.

" Yes, of course. I'm nine years old today. Nny took me out to eat earlier. Have you ever been to that Japanese restaurant near here? The food is wonderful, and the family that owns and runs it is very nice. "

Pepito began to mutter to himself in Spanish, something about not liking fish much. Squee just shook his head, still unable to form a coherent sentence.

" Well, you should really go there. I've already gone with Devi and Tenna and Raven. Tenna was the one that took us there the first time. "

"Tenna did? Of course. Only _she_ would know about a place staffed by three people. Who's Raven?" Pepito looked curious.

" One of Devi and Tenna's friends. She works at Hot Topic with Tenna. "

"Nice. By the way, I like the shirt."

"Merci. I think it's such a pretty symbol. "

"Anarchy is fun."

"Oui, c'est tres amusant."

"Pepito, quit corrupting the kid's mind, will you? It's already messed up enough." Squee glared at his friend, who simply smiled and gave a mock bow.

"Why bother? She's already warped, and it's fun to mess up people's heads. Besides, how much worse could she get?"

"She could end up like Nny."

"Annette, are you like Nny?" Pepito grinned, awaiting the inevitable answer.

" I helped him gather up some of the guests that escaped awhile ago. "

"See, Squee? Not much I can do to make it worse, is there?"

"You all disturb me. Hey, Annette, how about something to drink? Coke?"

"Non, merci. I'm fine, really. "

"Okay, then. Um...ever play videogames?"

" Some. What do you have? "

An hour later, Annette was happily throttling both Squee and Pepito at every first-person shooter game that Squee owned. Pepito was currently fighting against her, and he was losing badly. Annette had taken refuge in a high tower and was gunning down everything with a high-tech sniper rifle.

The phone rang. Squee answered, talked briefly with the person on the other end, and hung up. He was smiling when he interrupted the game.

"Hey, guys, all clear. We can go back to your place now, Annette."

" You and Pepito, too? "

"Hey, querida, don't talk like that. It's hurting my feelings. Don't you like us?" Pepito made a mock tragic face and fell, pretending to have been shot in the chest. "I feel so unloved."

"Get up, idiot. Let's go." Squee rolled his eyes and grabbed his jacket.

Annette giggled and pulled Pepito to his feet, her strength surprising all, herself included. The three thundered down the stairs, startling Mrs. Casil and causing her husband to yell at them from the study. Out the door, and Annette led the way to house number 777.

It seemed that Nny had finally remembered to pay the electric bill. The light switch was already flipped on when they entered. And there was noise, but not the typical screams. Music was actually being played. Loud, wonderful music.

But that was nothing. There were _people_ in the house. People _talking, laughing._ Nothing remotely hostile. Not even any arguments. Annette listened to the sounds and savored them, convinced as she was that they would not last.

"What is this?" she inquired, wandering into the living room to see Devi and Tenna chatting with Raven.

"Hey, Annette. Don't stare like that. Be happy, kiddo. Happy birthday." Devi smiled warmly and stood to give her a hug.

"This is my...party..." Complete shock.

"Yeah, Annie, that's why we're all here instead of working or at skool! Happy birthday!" Tenna gave Spooky a squeak and grinned.

"Nny told us to come, so we did. Hope you're happy, Annette, cuz Miyuki's mom is sure giving him hell in the kitchen," added Raven, contributing her smile to the collective.

"Nny put a...party...together." Still total shock.

"Yeah, and he kept calling random people to ask them what to do. He called me to ask what kind of decor to use." Pepito cracked up.

"Join the party, Annette." Squee laughed as well and sat down next to Tenna.

"Mon Dieu."

Annette darted off toward the kitchen. Everyone stared after her, but she offered no explanation. Nny was in the kitchen, cowering from Suki, who was ordering him and her family around as they cooked things. Annette gave Nny a long look, then ran up and hugged him.

Author's note: Okay, this is probably the last note I'll do before the end of the fic. But I just had to say this. If there's two things I hate, it's these: sappiness and overly serious stuff. I can't _stand_ that. But around chapter three, I realized that I was in serious danger of both. This thing is too damned SERIOUS! And I HATE making it all "feel good" and crap like that. But it's so hard not to, because sometimes it seems that merde like that is the ONLY stuff out there. I'm trying to make it funny, here. I put the damned thing under HUMOR, after all. But at chapter three, I added drama to the thing to account for the, uh, drama...stuff.

Anyway, I'd better get back to the story. My demented best friend is very sleep-deprived and talking at me through the phone appliance, and we're discussing how one would go about sending a fan letter to everyone's favorite insomniac cartoonist. I'm very tired. I should be sleeping, but insomnia is too fun to ruin it with sleep this early. Eh, whatever. This thing'll be done soon, I promise. And I've gotten past thinking that me fic sucks; I've now moved on to thinking that it might be worthy of being called a fanfic. Yay! I'll beat that inferiority complex yet!

-Raven

Annette was having more fun than she had in a long time. Eventually, she got around to looking at the small pile of wrapped items on the table in the kitchen, and she finally figured out that they were her presents.

The others crowded around her, Annette opened her gifts. From Tenna, lots of pretty paints and soft pencils. Miyuki had found a lovely necklace with a very ornate roman cross adorning it, and her parents gave Annette an Evanescence CD and a Linkin Park CD. Squee had, in a strange bout of acceptance, given her a shirt with the words "Get Lost" and one of Emily's cats, Sabbath, adorning the front of it. Pepito presented Annette with a bound journal, very ornate and old-looking. Raven had found an enormous set of candles and incense, and there was a metal box of matches with the burnables.

Then Annette got to Devi's gift. It was a thick sketchbook, leather bound and with a black, silver-embossed cover. Inside the front cover was an extra sheet of paper, a heavy grade that was perfect for sketching. It was s drawing of a little girl whose eyes held both fear and happiness. Annette looked into her own face, at the pupils of the eyes, one of which held a skull, the other an ankh.

Nny handed her a package, and she opened it hastily. Three objects fell into her lap. Two daggers, identical in their hooked blades and carved bone handles-a skull completed the ends of the hilts-and a large silver ankh covered in hieroglyphics that were directly engraved into its surface.

"Merci, everyone," Annette murmured quietly.

"You like your gifts, Annette?" asked Devi kindly, a small smile gracing her features.

"Yes, very much. I'm...just very happy."

"Well, should we have cake, then?" Raven grinned and looked around at the annoyed faces around her. "What? Cake is good."

People just rolled their eyes.

Much later, after everyone else had left, Nny and Annette were cleaning up the house. Nny had volunteered to help this once, seeing as it _was_ Annette's birthday and all. Anyway, the two were currently working on the kitchen, which, though Miyuki and co had done a relatively good job of cleaning up the mess, was still ghastly by Annette's standards.

"Did you have fun today, Annette?"

"Yes, everyone was very nice, and I'm very happy."

"Sorry if the knives weren't exactly the kind of thing you like, but I thought that it would be good for you to have something to protect yourself with-"

"No, really, I really like them. Beautiful carvings. And the ankh is very pretty. I'm hanging it up in my room. Either that or I'll wear it, if it's not too heavy. Thank you for putting this together, the party."

"I had a lot of help."

"But you still agreed to have it here. I really am thankful of that, you know."

Nny didn't answer. He just resumed sweeping the floor. Annette decided that it was best not to argue and went back to washing dishes.

Later, Annette sat in her room and opened her new journal. She stuck the tip of a new calligraphy pen into her mouth and waited for the words to come. Then she was off, whipping the pen out and down onto the paper, writing like mad.

_ Dear Dorothy,_

_You are my new diary. I don't think I'll bother much with physical descriptions, as those change over time, but I will say that I am Antoinette, however many times people have and will call me Annette. I turned nine years old today, and I'm still living with a homicidal maniac. The strange thing is, I don't mind. _

_I mean, he kills people, yes, but how can I hate someone so much like myself? We see eye to eye on almost everything except for the killing-mostly-and a few other things. I can hold an intelligent conversation with him, and he won't hold back because he fears that I'm too "young" to understand what he's saying. Perhaps that is the best thing about living with a man that has completely lost his grip on reality._

_But I'm going on a tangent, aren't I? Ah well. I should be talking about my day. After all, it's not often that one turns nine. I can't help but think that I am much more advanced mentally than other humans my age. Perhaps that comes from contact with intelligent individuals; perhaps it comes from purely my own mind. I can't tell for sure. Either way, it doesn't change anything. Oh, no, I said I was going to talk about my day... _

_Well, I got many nice things today for my birthday. A sketchbook and a drawing, this journal, CDs, a shirt, jewelry, paints, pencils, candles, and Nny gave me knives and an ankh. Nny actually organized a party for me. Isn't that lovely? Anyway, everyone I know was there. Then again, I don't know many people, so maybe that isn't so impressive. Devi, Raven, Tenna, Nny, Squee, Pepito, Miyuki, Suki, and Hiro are the only ones I DO know._

_Nny and I dismembered some old Barbies that we found at a thrift store. It's really very therapeutic. Barbies are so disgusting, in my opinion._

_I really should be getting to sleep. The sun is rising. I can see the sliver of light under my door. I think Jack and Sally are tired, too. It's been as long a day for them as it had been for me. My new daggers are under my pillow. I'll sleep easy tonight._

_-Antoinette _

The sun rose, and a new day dawned. Nny was in the basement, unable to see or register any of this. Annette slept, also unaware of the sunrise. And around them, the world gradually began to awaken.

A knock on the door, and Annette woke up. Her head was pounding from the lack of sleep, and she did not really feel like facing anything at the door. But still, she knew that Nny would never hear the knock, and if she wanted any peace, she'd have to answer it.

There was a policewoman standing in the doorway, along with that horrid social worker. Annette started, then turned to slam the door.

"Antoinette, dear, you have to come with us."

" Go away. I do not understand- "

"You understand me just fine, honey. Is your guardian at home?"

"Um...Non, Madame."

"Go pack. We have to take you away for awhile. The state has determined that this is not a good home for you. We're leaving in ten minutes."

The social worker was done playing nice. The steely look in her eyes was enough to make even Annette submissive. She turned and went back to her room, gathering up what she could.

Jack, Sally, her journals, some clothes, sketchpad, candles, matches, CDs and a personal CD player, the daggers, the ankh, drawings, anything she could find went into a backpack that she'd gotten a few months ago. She paused to change into a shirt (Stop Lying to Kids) and jeans, then draped all of her jewelry over her. The button collection was pinned to a scarf and carefully stored in the smallest pocket of her bag. Before the ten minutes was up, Annette reappeared at the door with everything that she found worth salvaging.

"Good girl. Let's go-"

Annette suddenly turned toward the basement door and screamed at the top of her lungs the last English words that she would speak for some time.

"Nny, help me! Don't let them take me away!"

But by the time Nny stumbled up the last of the stairs, they were gone.

"Have you made any progress?"

"No, not really. She won't talk to me. Not in English , anyway, and even then, she never answers my questions."

"Odd."

"What?"

"The man, Johnny, the one that was taking care of her...he hasn't said a word since he was arrested."

"Strange. It's amazing that the girl isn't more damaged, considering the sheer volume of that creature's personality she seems to have absorbed."

"Yes...Are you going to try to talk to her again?"

"I suppose so. Care to stay?"

"Thank you, I think I will."

The social worker watched as the psychiatrist opened the door to the observation room. Annette was placidly drawing at the undersized table, silent and almost trance-like. The girl looked up at the approach of her psychiatrist.

"Hello, Antoinette. How are you?"

" The weather-how is it? I haven't been able to look outside today. "

"It's very cold out. Now answer me."

" You Americans and your peculiar expressions. Why do you feel it necessary to say 'it's cold _out?'_ Shouldn't that be a given? After all, I hardly think it would ever rain indoors, so long as you had a roof, that is. "

"Antoinette."

"Oui?"

"Why are you being so hard on me? I'm jut doing my job. I'm not the one who took you away from Johnny, you know."

"Johnny?"

"Nny."

" You work for the state, Miss Chen. The state is who decided that Nny was unfit to care for me and took me away without me even being able to say goodbye. "

"What are you drawing, there?" _New topic time._

Annette handed over the sketchbook, and miss Chen was startled to see a very terrifying ragdoll staring blankly up at her, ragged and burned-looking. She started, dropping the book, and Annette scooped it up before it hit the ground.

"No matter how many of those drawings I see, I never get used to them," sighed Miss Chen, her hand pressed to her chest.

" They bother you that much? "

"They're pretty, really, but I can't help but be a bit startled by them."

" Startled, is it? Rather an understatement, isn't it? "

"Antoinette, you are not being very cooperative today, are you?"

Silence. Annette had gone back to drawing. Miss Chen sighed and shook her head in defeat. A small smile was just barely visible on Annette's face when the woman stood and left the room.

"Did you see that?"

"You mean how she effectively snubbed you _and_ scared you in one hit?"

"...Yes. If that's what you like to call it. I prefer the term 'hostility toward the case worker.' She's obviously dealing with severe aggression brought on by abandonment issues. The aggression manifests itself passively, in which she becomes antisocial and..."

Miss Tree's attention was already wandering. She smiled and nodded, eyes glazing over. These doctor types and their precious jargon. It would have been far easier to say that the girl blamed her for her removal from what was, in the girl's opinion, a perfectly fine home. It was the truth, plain and simple.

Annette looked up at the one way glass window, her eyes boring into the exact place where Miss Tree stood. She shivered involuntarily from the gaze, reminded again of that creature Antoinette called Nny. Miss Chen went on, either not noticing the stare or not caring enough to stop.

"Tree? Tree, are you listening?"

"What? Oh, yes, of course. But I think you ought to take a look at the patient."

Miss Chen turned with a grimace and glanced at the girl. then she did a double-take. Annette was standing right up against the glass, a drawing pressed to the window at the women's eye level. Her eyes burned, and the drawing was a startlingly realistic one of Miss Chen and Miss Tree being disemboweled with sporks.

The man hadn't said a word yet, but somehow he had frightened off all potential cellmates. They usually lasted for about an hour before screaming to be moved elsewhere. And still the man said nothing,

Nny had been arrested two weeks before for "fleeing officers of the law" and "resisting arrest." Though how he could be arrested for resisting an arrest that hadn't happened yet was beyond him. And he hadn't fled; he was just in the basement. It wasn't _his _fault that he hadn't heard the doorbell. But perhaps the "guests" had caused the police to think seriously about hauling him into prison.

But that was just a wild guess.

All Nny did was draw. he had taken his sketchbook with him and refused to give it up. Now he sat patiently in his cell, staring at the wall, drawing whatever came to mind. He hardly ate, never slept, and barely moved. He just sketched mindlessly.

Mostly the pictures were strange creatures with multiple glaring eyes and gaping, sharp-fanged mouths. Every now and then, though, a somewhat normal sketch would turn up. All of these were of the same thing: a small girl with huge, frightened eyes.

Periodically, Miss Tree would visit to see how he was doing. All she ever got in response was silence, but the drawings were telling enough. They were in eerie synchronization with Annette's sketches, the monster ones. But instead of herself, Annette drew ragdolls.

Presently, Nny had switched from drawing to writing. He used his sketchbook like a diary, scrawling whatever came to mind in a miniscule, untidy hand. There were small drawings to go with the words, but most of the stuff went down the page in wavering downhill lines, covering every bit of available space.

"Nny, how are we doing today?"

Silence. Nny kept writing without so much as a glance at the social worker.

"Antoinette's doing well. She's been drawing a lot as well. Yesterday she showed her psychiatrist a lovely picture of a ragdoll."

Nny paused. His grip tightened on the pen, and the faintest glimmer of anger flashed across his face. This was apparently a very sore subject and understandably so. He went back to writing at a more fevered pace than before.

"Sorry to bother you, but I just thought you could use an update. You will appear in court in a week, so be ready. You _do_ plan to dress nicely, I hope?"

Nny paused again to look down at his clothes. Black, tattered, and bloodstained. He was fine.

"I thought you'd feel that way. Well, I just hope we can get all this sorted out. Goodbye, Nny."

She didn't bother to look at what he had been writing before she left. had she, she would have seen these words:

_She's scared. I can feel it. Those bastards and their government are always destroying, never fixing. I DO NOT NEED TO BE REPAIRED. Annette hasn't spoken in English for a long time. That social worker will die. They must all die. They will die. DIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIE_

Annette stifled a gasp when they brought him in. Nny was in chains, the handcuffs set as small as they would go and still loose around his wrists. It was time for the court hearing and the trial. Nny made no signs of recognition when he glanced up at the sound. Eyes empty, he viewed Annette as though she were another human, devoid of interest and worth. This crushed her more effectively than anything else she'd endured the past three weeks.

"This is the hearing debating the best placement for one Annette C." called the person near the judge's seat. "All rise."

The judge, a severe-looking woman with small glasses and even smaller eyes, took her seat and began to look over the case file.

"Sit down, idiots," she barked. "You all look like you're at a funeral. Now this case is about finding the best place for you to grow up, then, Antoinette? Is that how you say your name?"

"Oui, Madame. C'est Annette, s'il vous plait."

"Annette, then. And no, you big-shot lawyers, I'm going to talk to the kid first, not you. Now Annette, can you tell me what happened to land you in this 'Nny' person's home?"

Annette nodded. " In September, my mother and I came here from France because my mother wanted to give me a better upbringing or something. I don't know why. But I do know that it had something to do with finding my father. "

"Yes, yes, you can skip all the melodrama. Go on."

" Yes, Madame. Um, we eventually found the house, 777, and my mother attempted to talk to Nny. They had a disagreement, and my mother died. I've been there ever since. "

"Let me get this straight. He _killed_ your mother."

"Oui."

"Does that make you sad?"

" Not really. "

"It doesn't make you think that perhaps Nny might not be the best person to raise you?"

" Why should it? She was annoying, anyway. She scared me. So Nny really did me a favor by killing her. "

There was a small gasp all around from the portion of the audience that had understood the girl's testimony. Annette looked around her, confused, and they all stared at her with a pitying look in their collective eyes.

"You see, your Honor, this girl has obviously been hideously warped and traumatized while in the care of this monster." Annette's lawyer gave a disgusted glare at Nny. "For this reason only, if nothing else, she should be placed in a foster home, and this, this _thing_ be jailed for the maximum amount of time possible."

"Eloquent _and_ still pathetic. Okay, Annette, you did very well. You don't have to talk any more. Let's talk to Nny now, okay?" The judge turned to Nny, who was absent-mindedly drawing on his hand. "Nny? You there?"

Nny looked up, but made no response.

"My, uh, client is going to make this difficult by not talking." Nny's lawyer looked nervous. "He, um, refused to talk to me earlier."

"Fine, we'll just say he pleads the Fifth. He's guilty."

" Wait! "

"Oh, great. Now what?"

Annette stood up and ran to the judge's table, tears streaming down her face.

" Nny's not a bad person! He kills people, yes, but he's a product of his environment! Don't let them put me in a home! Please! "

"Sorry, kid, but he's clearly guilty." The judge prepared to deliver the verdict.

There was a flash of silver, and a bone-handled knife was suddenly protruding from the woman's neck. She coughed, spluttered, and fell. Total silence for a long time.

"Nice shot, Annette."

Annette turned to see Nny standing up by the corpses of his and her lawyers. She smiled and ran, nearly running him over to tackle-hug him. The members of the jury were in shock, as were Miss Tree and Miss Chen. Nny looked over at the two and gave them a scary grin.

"Shall we, Annette?" he asked, fingering another knife.

"Just let me retrieve my dagger. Make sure the tall one doesn't get away. She's mine."

"Of course. Now will you let go of me?"

"Oh, yes, sorry about that." She stood up and brushed off her clothes.

She pulled the knife out of the judge's neck, then turned to the jury and bowed. They ran, not bothering to alert the police. As it was, the police were running with them, so they wouldn't have been of much help anyway.

"Now, then, Miss Chen, I believe that we have a certain score to settle. Annette, go to it."

Annette grinned and approached Miss Tree. She gave a glance at Nny, who was using his pen to disembowel the psychiatrist.

"I suppose I'm alright with the killing thing now," she muttered to no one in particular. "Mon Dieu, I'm messed up."

"Yes, well, at least you're not alone," Nny pointed out, ignoring Miss Chen's screams and bringing Annette's other knife to the woman's mouth.

"True."

Epilogue

"Nny, where's my dagger?"

"How should I know?"

"You had it last!"

"Check the basement."

_"Where_ in the basement?"

"Where all the other weapons are, maybe?"

Annette sighed. She opened the basement door and stumbled down the steps, a bit unsteady on teenage legs. Adolescent awkwardness was a major pain in the arse. The stairs were dark as well as steep, so she slipped a few times on the way as was her custom.

The dagger lay on a pile of similar blades, the polished bone handle gleaming dully in the low light. She grabbed it and a few more, smiling at the feel of the weapons in her hands. Her ebony-painted lips curved upward further at the memory of her first real kill. She didn't kill much now, not after that day in court, but it was still fun to practice.

Back upstairs, Nny was painting. Annette paused to watch for a moment, and she smiled when he looked up.

"Going out again?" he inquired disinterestedly, dipping a brush into a small container of red paint.

"Yeah, Squee's driving. Everybody's going to Miyuki's restaurant for dinner. you wanna come?"

"No thanks. I'm perfectly fine here."

"What're you painting? Looks like one of the doughboys."

Nny gazed at the half-painted styrofoam figures. "Sort of. I found them in a store display. The owners were kind enough to allow me to take them. I've decided to call them Chaos and Destruction."

"Very artistic of you. Don't kill yourself now, okay? I need food, you know."

"Do you have money?"

"Not much."

Nny tossed her his wallet without lifting his gaze. "Take whatever's in there."

"Thanks. See you at ten."

Silence. Annette turned to leave, not really expecting an answer anyway. There was a sound behind her, and she stopped.

"Nevermind. I'm getting too reclusive, and it might be nice to see people again. I'm coming with."

Annette smiled. "Thanks."

"Now let's leave before I change my mind."

"Great. You'll love seeing everyone again. Miyuki had a baby, an adorable little boy, and he's almost two now. She named him after a samurai. Named him Kenshin."

"Wonderful."

Annette glanced at Nny again. Same unkempt black hair that went in all directions, same tattered black attire, bloodstains everywhere, emaciation galore, he hadn't changed at all.

"Thanks for coming, Dad. I really appreciate it."

"Don't call me that. It makes me feel old."

"You're not old."

"Still."

Annette laughed. Seven years and she still found it amusing.

Author's note: YAY! IT'S DONE! FINALLY! I had such FUN writing this. the ending was tricky; had to make sure it didn't drag out, but all in all, I'm pretty pleased with my work. And it's done before Tuesday! Go me for making a self-imposed deadline! Anyway, thanks so much for the reviews, guys. I really appreciate them. By the way, I've got some other fics on Jhonen's stuff if you're into that. I'm told they're pretty decent, which amuses me to no end. Anyway, I've got to cut this short for fear of going over sixty pages, so peace, all. Hope you liked the product of my headnoize.

-Raven


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